CTU:The Shadowlands
by Bluenose
Summary: Nine months after Day III, CTU LA faces another terrorist threat. But can they deal with it without their most experienced agent? Title provided by Ryan Adams.
1. Default Chapter

CTU; THE SHADOWLANDS  
  
Okay, I thought I would give you all some background information. I'm changing a few things from the path that seems to be 'cannon'. But hey, isn't that the point of fan fiction.  
  
Anyway. The Shadowlands is set about 9 months after the events of Day III. CTU LA has experienced a few changes since then.  
  
DAVID PALMER- Palmer was forced to withdraw from the Presidential race by Keeler. Since then, he has retreated to his family home, and has kept a low profile, withdrawing almost completely from political and public life. His last action as President was to pardon Tony Almeida.  
  
KIM BAUER/CHASE EDMUNDS- Surgeons were unable to reattach Chase's hand, so he was forced to resign his position in field ops. Unwilling to loose an agent of his experience and capability, CTU reassigned him to a desk job in DC. Kim went with him, to help him raise Angela, and he proposed to her on Christmas Eve.  
  
JACK BAUER- Everything Jack told Nina was true. All he had gotten from CTU was a dead wife, a dead lover, a broken relationship, a habit that he couldn't feed, a daughter that resented him and a government that wanted more and more. Disillusioned, he cashed in his chips with the President to help Tony, and resigned from CTU.  
  
TONY ALMEIDA- Pardoned by Palmer, but there were consequences to the decision. He's been highly reprimanded, suspended and demoted. He's only recently returned to work. You can bet your asses that Hammond is not best pleased at this either.  
  
TOM BAKER- now heads CTU Field Ops as Jack's replacement. He's well aware that he's trying to replace the irreplaceable, but equally determined to do the best job he can.  
  
MICHELLE DESSLER- Now, reluctantly, director of CTU. It has caused...problems in her relationship with Tony. Not intentionally, but its hard for her to lead an organization that threatened to arrest her husband. It's hard for him to accept her leadership, given all that he was prepared to give up for her.  
  
ASHLEY WEBBER- a soon to be new recruit to CTU. An undercover op with LAPD, about to transfer.  
  
NATASHA GREY- The new "man" in Chapelle's position. Very much a political appointment. She does her best, but while she has a lot of political experience, she lacks a little in the practicalities  
  
NATHAN GAULT- CTU Field Operative. He has been at CTU for six months, having transferred over from ATF. He's quickly become Baker's second in command. 


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One  
  
She grimaced. Looked again at the closed office door. Willing it to open. She shook her head and looked at her watch again. Ten minutes. Ten minutes since the last candidate had left and still no sign of the damn door opening. She stifled a sigh, her foot tapping against the mezzanine floor, the sound echoing around her.  
  
She coughed and swallowed hard, trying to moisten her dry throat. Her stomach twisted and clenched within her. She grimaced and looked again at the closed door. Shaking her head. Willing it to open.  
  
Hoping to settle her stomach, she stood up and walked to the edge of the platform, looking down over the communications bullpen, at the dark haired man pacing across the floor, directing operations.  
  
She leaned against the railing, watching them work. Everybody focused, concentrating, responding to the situation at hand.  
  
So different from New York.  
  
God she wanted this job.  
  
She heard the door behind her open and she turned around hastily. Trying to look as if she had just stood up to stretch her legs, rather than to stop herself being sick, possibly over her interviewers.  
  
A slender woman, her dark curly hair clipped back away from her face stood in the doorway of the office, a clipboard in her hand. "Ashley Webber?"  
  
"Yes, that's me."  
  
"Could you come through please?"  
  
Ashley swallowed hard and followed her into the office. Her nerves seemed to have settled, for now at least. At least she'd be able to show them what she could do, what she was capable of. At least she had a chance to compete for the job.  
  
There was another person in the room. A man sitting on the other side of the desk. He looked up when they entered the office. He didn't smile, or stand. The woman walked around to the other side of the desk, pulling her chair out to sit down.  
  
"Have a seat please, Ms Webber." She waited until Ashley sat down. "This is Tom Baker, Director of Field Ops here in LA. My name's Michelle Dessler, I am Director of CTU LA. We'll be interviewing you for the position."  
  
Ashley nodded, folding her hands in her lap. Composing herself. She could do this. It was just another part to play, just another role.   
  
"What's the situation, Nathan?"  
  
"My teams are in position, Tony. I got men at both exits, and a soft perimeter set up. We're all set here."  
  
Tony saw images light up on his display as Nathan Gault marked the position of his men in the field. He looked over his shoulder. "Adam! How many hostiles?"  
  
"Just working on it now, Tony." Adam's voice was distracted as he worked through the images.  
  
"We're just waiting on your signal Tony." Even distorted by the radio, by the need for him to speak quietly, there was no mistaking the energy and enthusiasm in Nathan's voice.  
  
"Just order your men to hold their positions..."  
  
"Tony, I got six hostiles with the buyers and three more with Modline."  
  
"Shit, send their positions to Nathan. Nathan, did you hear that?"  
  
"Copy that Tony."  
  
"Good." Tony paced across the bullpen, looking over Adam's shoulder as he worked. "Adam's sending their positions to your screen now. Hold your positions until the exchange goes through. Oh and Nathan?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Remind your guys." He glanced up at the darkened office. "Michelle wants Modline alive."  
  
"Copy that."  
  
He didn't ask any questions. But then he didn't need to. All of CTU knew that Tony Almeida had come within a hairs breadth of execution, of life imprisonment at best. It had become a cautionary tale for young agents- don't put your spouse's life first.  
  
But now he was back. Pardoned and demoted and working for his wife.  
  
He glanced up at the darkened office again. He realised suddenly that he was frowning and he looked away. Praying that nobody else had seen his emotions.  
  
Nathan's voice broke across his thoughts.  
  
"Get ready guys."  
  
Tony became aware that he was holding his breath. That the whole bullpen was silent, barely breathing.  
  
"Go! Go! Go!"  
  
Sounds of gunfire, shouting and screaming filled the channels, Nathan's voice, shouting orders, barely audible through the noise.  
  
"Dammit Nathan, what the hells going on out there?"   
  
Ashley fell silent, licking dry lips. Waiting for the next question. She watched them make notes on their pads, the scratching of their pens the only sound in the office. Ashley could feel sweat breaking on her forehead. She clutched her hands tightly in her lap, resisting the urge to wipe her forehead.  
  
"Why do you want this job?" Michelle allowed herself to smile slightly, both to try and put the candidate a little at her ease and at Ashley's obvious discomfort. It was too damn hot in her office, another one of Tom's evil ideas for these interviews.  
  
Tom didn't smile, his attention focused on Ashley Webber.  
  
"I want a new challenge." Ashley coughed, looking around in vain for some water. "Somewhere new, somewhere were I could actually do some good. We spent too much time in New York playing catch up after the crime."  
  
"So you would rather be pro-active?"  
  
"Exactly! I want to get to the bad guys first, before they get the chance to get themselves established. In New York, we were always a step behind them."  
  
"Where did you work in New York?"  
  
"NYPD. Four years in uniform, five as a detective. The last three in Narcotics."  
  
Tom's voice broke through the conversation, snapping like a whip. "What can you give us that another candidate cant?"  
  
"I've spent three years doing undercover work. I'm good at it, I learn quickly and I play characters well. I'm good with accents." She shrugged. "People seem to trust me."  
  
"You ever get made?"  
  
"Not that I know of." She met Baker's eyes flatly. Daring him to challenge her on her record.  
  
Baker nodded and dropped his eyes, making a quick note. He glanced at Michelle and passed the note over to her.   
  
"Two hostiles down, Tony, and we've recovered the shipment." Nathan sounded out of breath. Sounds of gunfire came dimly across the channels, fading into the backround.  
  
"Is Modline in custody?"  
  
"Negative, Tony." His voice jumped across the microphone range. "He made a run for it when he saw us coming."  
  
"Just a second Nathan." Tony pulled the microphone away from his mouth. "Adam, I need a location on Modline. Quickly."  
  
"I'm working on it Tony." The bullpen worked in silence, eyes on monitors, focusing on communications. "Got him. He's heading north through the second parking level."  
  
"Nathan..."  
  
"I got it Tony."  
  
The red dots representing Nathan and his men picked up speed, heading north through the deserted car park. More chatter came over the communications channel, various members of the delta team, reporting in, reporting the situation.  
  
"Everything is under control, Nathan. All hostiles are either down or under arrest. Central engagement area secure."  
  
Adam broke across the conversation. "Nathan, Modline's made a turn to the west He's still heading towards the main street."  
  
"Tony, we got movement on the surface. Grey SUV approaching the scene."  
  
"Shit, Nathan, you got to get this son of a bitch before he gets to the surface."  
  
"I'm working on it Tony...Stop CTU!"  
  
Sounds of a struggle carried clearly to every ear in the bullpen. Then the whistling sound of a baton descending through the air and a crunch as it collided with a human body.  
  
A man screamed.  
  
"We got him, Tony. The money's here as well. I'm bringing him back to CTU now."   
  
"Why should we hire you?"  
  
"Because I want to work for you." I'm experienced at this type of work. I learn fast and I know when to stop." Ashley sat back in her chair. Michelle turned her head away quickly to talk to Tom, but not before Ashley saw her smile.  
  
The door knocked and the dark haired man she had seen running communications looked into the room. "Sorry to interrupt. Michelle, could I have a word with you, please?"  
  
"Certainly." Michelle stood up and made her way out of the room, closing the door carefully behind her. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing. Just wanted to let you know that Nathan arrested Jonathan Modline this afternoon."  
  
"Good. Is he bringing him to CTU?"  
  
"Yes. He's on his way now."  
  
They stared at each other for an instant. Trying to sort through the minefield they found themselves in.  
  
"Okay." Michelle ran her hand across her hair. "You and Nathan do the interrogation." She looked back at the closed door. "I'd better get back in there." She turned towards the door.  
  
Tony reached out and grabbed her elbow, his fingers softening as she turned back to him. "How's it going in there?"  
  
She smiled and he couldn't stop himself smiling back at her. "It is going okay. I think this girl might be the one we're after." He slid his fingers down her arm, linking them through hers., brushing her palm with his thumb. "I'd better get back." She brushed his fingertips with hers before disappearing back into the office.  
  
Tony stared at the closed door for a moment before walking down the stairs.   
  
"Why did you leave your last job?"  
  
"Shouldn't we wait on the director?"  
  
Baker shrugged, staring at her with calm unblinking eyes.  
  
"I was starting to feel lost."  
  
"Lost?"  
  
"I was starting to get the sides mixed up. I wanted to remember why I wanted to do this in the first place."  
  
The door opened and Michelle Dessler walked back into the room. "I'm sorry about that." She walked around the desk and sat down. Baker passed her another note, which she read quickly. "Just one last question, Ms Webber. Have you ever been convicted of a crime?"  
  
Ashley laughed. "I've been arrested a few times, when its been necessary to maintain a cover, but no, I've never been convicted."  
  
Michelle held her gaze for a second longer. "You any more questions Tom?"  
  
Baker shook his head. "No."  
  
Michelle held out her hand. "Welcome to CTU, Ashley."   
  
Tony met Nathan as he reached the bottom of the stairs. "Good job this afternoon, Nathan."  
  
"Thanks." Nathan nodded in the direction Tony had came from. "Is she happy enough then?"  
  
"Yeah. She wants me and you to handle the initial interrogation." Tony walked towards Holding One.  
  
Nathan put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "Good to have you back, man."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Believe me, she was an absolute nightmare to work with when you weren't here!"  
  
Tony laughed and ran his key card through the reader. The lights went green and he pushed open the door, Nathan following after him.  
  
Jonathan Modline was already there, handcuffed to the desk. His broken leg plastered and stretched out on a chair in front of him.  
  
Tony sat down opposite him. Flipping through his file. Modline was in his mid thirties, tall, heavily built but listing towards fat. Nathan leaned against the wall, smirking every time Modline met his eyes.  
  
"You've been very stupid, Jonathan." Tony didn't look up. Still looking through the file.  
  
Modline tore his eyes away from Nathan with an effort.  
  
"Those weapons were heading to South LA gangers. Gangers with drug cartel and terrorist connections."  
  
Nathan interjected smoothly. "That's a lot of prison time."  
  
Tony nodded. "A lot of prison time."  
  
Modline blinked sweat out of his eyes. "How much prison time?"  
  
"Given what you were selling, who you were selling to..." Tony leaned back in his chair. "I'd say fifteen to twenty, easy."  
  
Modline shook his head frantically. Tony watched in disgust as tiny drops of moisture landed on the desk. "I can't do that much time. I'll die."  
  
"Then give me something I can use."   
  
"Dessler."  
  
"Michelle, its Tony. We broke Modline."  
  
"What did he give us?"  
  
"Samuel Williams."  
  
"Thanks Tony. Will you pull together what intel we have on Williams? I'll contact the department heads."  
  
"Okay."   
  
"Thanks Tony."  
  
Ashley felt strange as she followed Michelle and Tom into the briefing room. She took a seat at the far end of the table and watched as the department heads filed in.  
  
Michelle stood up. "Okay, this is Ashley Webber. She's joining us from NYPD. Ashley, this is Adam Kaufman, Nathan Gault, you already know Tom, and Tony Almeida."  
  
Ashley recognised the dark haired man who had been directing the communications, nodding at the muffled chorus of hellos.  
  
Michelle pressed a button and the screen behind her displayed a picture of a heavyset man in his mid thirties. "Earlier today, Nathan led a CTU operation which resulted in the arrest of Jonathan Modline. Tony?" She sat down, seemingly relieved to be out of the spotlight.  
  
Tony pressed another button and the screen changed to a younger man, dark haired with a goatee beard. "Modline broke under interrogation and gave us Samuel Williams. He's an arms dealer, supplying several groups across the US and Europe."  
  
"Why don't we just arrest him?" Nathan closed the briefing file, pushing it across the desk. "Just put him out of business."  
  
"He's a middle man, Nathan." Michelle rubbed at her temples, feeling a headache building already. She tried to smile reassuringly at Tony's look of concern. "He has his own network, and he's the next link on the chain. W need to take it down piece by piece, follow the links."  
  
"So what's the plan?"  
  
Tony pressed another button and the image changed to a beautiful woman with red hair. "Alyson Rawlings, Williams' girlfriend. Her father is George Rawlings, of the shipping firm. We use her."  
  
Ashley found her voice. "This is where I come in then?" She tried to pretend that she didn't enjoy everybody staring at her.  
  
Michelle nodded. "Yeah. I want you to get close to the girl, see if you can use her to get to Williams, see what she can lead you to." She turned to Tony. "Work a cover up for her. Make sure it's airtight, but give her room to improvise. Adam, go through Rawlings Shipping finances, see what you can dig up. Tom..."  
  
"Nathan and I will go back at Modline. See if he has anything else."  
  
"Okay. Any questions?"  
  
Michelle looked around the table. One by one, they all shook their heads.  
  
"Lets get to work, people." 


	3. Chapter Two

Hey, thanks for all the reviews for Chapter One. Just before I get into Chapter Two, there are a couple of things I want to address.  
  
1) The formatting- I know it's a pain. I type it out all nice and neat on Word, and it's all spread out well, but it just wont post that way. Believe me, I tried and I tried to get it to work for Chapter One, until I thought the chapter wouldn't post. I just cant get Quickedit to work. If anybody wants to help me out....What I will do is, when things are happening at the same time, I'll let you know where they are.  
  
2) The Tony situation- Okay, this is how I saw things when I was planning this story- Tony was pardoned, so no treason charges, and no reason for him not to work at CTU. He was demoted, suspended and fined for his part in the initial conspiracy to obtain the virus. Now, obviously, as you'll find when you read this chapter, there are a few people within CTU who disagree with that logic...That's the way I imagined things anyway. I hope that makes a bit more sense. And you did give me a few ideas (grins evily)  
  
3) Jack. Well you'll just have to keep reading, wont you?  
  
Today's chapter is brought you by the new Pearl Jam album and over exposure to Love Is Hell  
  
Chapter Two.  
  
Ashley followed Tony back to his work station. "What do you have in mind for me?" She sat down next to him as he typed, the light from his desk lamp glinting off his wedding ring.  
  
He clicked open a file and pictures of Samuel Williams and Alyson Rawlings appeared at the top of his screen. "We ran a list of their known associates." Tony highlight one name and another picture appeared. "We got lucky."  
  
She leaned forward to read the name off the screen. "Aeron DuValle."  
  
"He runs The Garage." He smiled when she looked at him questioningly. "It's a club in LA."  
  
"Didn't see you as the clubbing sort."  
  
"I'm not. Anyway, Williams and DuValle go way back, and he's been on the A list at The Garage for the last month."  
  
"Is Alyson?"  
  
Tony shook his head. "No. Why?"  
  
"Just trying to figure out ways to get close to them." Ashley chewed on her lip. "So we're going through the club. What have you got for my cover?"  
  
"We figured that you'd be out for the night, out for a good time."  
  
"That's okay, as far as it goes. It doesn't give me an excuse to get to them. Let's see their profiles again."  
  
Tony went back to the main screen. "Well that's interesting. Alyson Rawlings was arrested six months ago. For possession. Daddy's money made it all go away." He looked over at Ashley. "That give you an excuse?"  
  
She smiled. "Yeah, that gives me an excuse."  
  
"What do you need?"  
  
"Some cash and some merchandise. A Zippo, knife, pipe, maybe a small calibre gun." She counted the things off on her fingers. "Give me a police record, nothing major. Just enough to give me an out if I need it." She pulled at the shirt of her suit. "What type of place is The Garage?"  
  
"It's a rock club. They have bands on most nights." He smiled at her again. "Local ones mostly, but sometimes they get the big names."  
  
"A rock club? Great, I'm going to have to change."  
  
"Don't worry, we got plenty of clothes here."  
  
"CTU, Dessler."  
  
"Michelle, its Natasha."  
  
"What can I do for you Natasha?"  
  
"Just phoning to remind you about the meeting next Thursday. Have you got your diary there? Its from 9am at Division."  
  
She fell silent. Michelle could almost hear her thinking. Working out what she was going to say. Working out how she was going to say it.  
  
"How about Tony? How's he doing?"  
  
"Tony? He's doing good."  
  
"Take your wife hat off, Michelle." Despite her words, there was no humour in Natasha's voice. "How's he doing as an agent?"  
  
"He's doing a fantastic job, Natasha." Michelle felt her temper rising and struggled to get it back under control. "You know he's one of the best at..."  
  
Natasha cut her off. "Hammond phoned. He's still not happy about Tony being back at work at CTU. Palmer made him look like an asshole. Look, I know things must be awkward, but just tell Tony to watch himself."  
  
"I will."  
  
"Watch yourself as well. Anything that hits him could rebound back onto you. I'll shield you both as best I can."  
  
"Thanks Natasha."  
  
"Alyson, can you get me the Maguire file? And another cup of coffee."  
  
"I'll get them for you in just a second, Mr Matheson. I just have to finish these reports for..."  
  
"Alyson, who do you work for?" He moved to stand in front of her desk. Looming over her. Taking advantage of his position to look down her shirt.  
  
She lowered her eyes. "You sir." She hated this game, this humiliation. Matheson took every opportunity to do it as well.  
  
"Do you think you should get to pick and choose what work you do, just because of who your father is?"  
  
"No Mr Matheson." She felt tears start to well in her eyes. Every time she thought she had sank as low as she could, she found that she still had a distance to fall. And the prick Matheson usually found a way to push her over the edge.  
  
"Just do your job and get me those files. Or I'll fire your pretty little ass, no matter who you're father is." He walked off into his office, shaking his head.  
  
Alyson didn't have to look around to know that rest of the office had heard the confrontation. She knew exactly what they thought of her. She took another moment, wiping her eyes and nose. She just felt so low, so empty.  
  
Her phone rang as she stood up. She sighed and answered it.  
  
"Hello Rawlings Shipping, Alyson speaking, can I help you?" She rubbed at her nose as she spoke.  
  
She just needed something, anything to lift her.  
  
He knew exactly what she needed.  
  
"I don't know if I can make it tonight. That bastard Matheson has just dumped a pile of extra shit in my lap. It's gonna take me hours to get it finished."  
  
She was whining and she knew it. She hated it when she whined. Hated herself a little bit more. He knew it, and he knew how to twist the knife in her soul, knew how to make her come running every time he clicked his fingers, regardless of what he did to her.  
  
"I'll be there by 9."  
  
"Could I get some painkillers please?" Jonathan Modline wiped sweat from his forehead. It had gotten even hotter in the holding room over the last fifteen minutes. He coughed, his throat scratching with the effort. "Maybe some water?"  
  
"In a minute." Tom Baker sat down facing him. "We've got a few more questions for you."  
  
"Anything I can do to help you guys."  
  
Nathan sat down in the other chair, hanging his jacket over the back. "Especially if it helps cut down on your jail time, right Jonathan?"  
  
Modline shrugged and coughed again.  
  
"What else can you tell us about Williams' operation?"  
  
Modline pursed his lips. "He's got a large well equipped organisation, and a lot of people owe him favours." He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. Ignoring the sudden flare of pain up his leg. "And he'll call those favours in if he needs them. He's a ruthless bastard." He tilted his head to the side, a suddenly cunning look drifting across his features. "I got something big for you boys. But I want protection from Williams and some time from my sentence."  
  
Tom nodded. "Give me the information and I'll see what we can do." Modline opened his mouth to protest. "It's the best I can do Jonathan. Take it or leave it."  
  
"I'll take it." Modline didn't hesitate. "He has another shipment arriving tonight."  
  
Nathan laughed. "Now how the hell do you know that?"  
  
"Cos I was the one that bought it." He leaned back, self satisfied. "It's due in tonight, around 9pm at Wharf 4 in West LA. I think that might be worth some time off my sentence." He coughed again. "Can I get my water now?"  
  
Nathan stood up. "I'll go assemble a Delta team." He glanced back at Modline over his shoulder as he walked to the door. "I'll send someone in with some water."  
  
"Ashley's all ready to go, Michelle."  
  
It was so strange to be back in this office. On this side of the desk. With Michelle on the other side.  
  
Tony forced himself to continue. "We're putting her into play tonight. What do you want to do about backup?"  
  
Michelle shook her head. "We cant have a visible CTU presence, Tony. We need her to get into their circle."  
  
"I've given her a new phone. Virgin sim card, nothing on it for them to trace."  
  
"Good. Thanks Tony." She rubbed at her temples again, distracted.  
  
"Are you okay Michelle?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm just..." she broke off. "Natasha phoned."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Yes. She wanted to know how you were doing."  
  
Tony stared at his wife. "What did you tell her?"  
  
"I told her that you were a brilliant agent and we were lucky to have you back." She rubbed at her forehead again. "It's not her fault, Tony. Hammond's breathing down her neck."  
  
"Jesus Christ!" Tony stood up, turning away from her before she could see the sudden rush of anger in his eyes. "I know what I did, but what the fuck does he want from me? Jesus." He paced across the office. "Jesus, they've done everything they could to me, even with the pardon, and he's still trying to shit on me!"  
  
This wasn't his office anymore. It was hers.  
  
"Tony, calm down. Both Natasha and I will shield you..."  
  
"Shield me? That's bullshit Michelle, you shouldn't have to shield me..."  
  
Her phone rang, almost unnoticed through their raised voices. She looked away from him and snatched the phone up.  
  
"Dessler."  
  
"Michelle, it's Adam. I found something in the Rawlings finances. Several withdrawals to a numbered account. Not big, not enough to draw attention unless you were looking for it. I'm starting to go through the accounts now."  
  
"Thanks Adam." She hung up. "Look Tony, I know things are weird at the minute, and I'm sorry. But they will get better. We'll just work through things until Hammond finds somebody else that has pissed him off."  
  
"I know, I know. I'm sorry Michelle." He turned and walked out of the directors office.  
  
Out of her office.  
  
"Chloe, I need the schematics for Wharf 4 in West LA."  
  
"I'm a little busy at the minute, Tom. When do you need them for?"  
  
"As soon as possible, Chloe." He turned around and started to walk towards his office.  
  
"Jeeze, no need to shout Tom." She spun around in her chair and started accessing data on her screens, her lower lip protruding.  
  
He heard her just before he reached his office door. He walked back over to her, leaning over her desk. "The shipments due at 9, Nathan's putting a team together at the minute. I need those plans, Chloe. Now."  
  
"Alright." She blinked angrily, her fingers pounding against the keyboard. "Jack never shouted at me like that."  
  
"Jesus Chloe, I'm not Jack."  
  
He heard the words echo around the Field Ops office. He knew he was only saying what most of CTU was already thinking.  
  
For once, Chloe didn't answer back. She typed a few more commands and turned her chair away from him. Taking care not to meet his eyes. "I've sent those plans to your screen Tom."  
  
"Thank you." Tom walked back to his office. "Will you send Nathan in when he gets back from assembling the team?"  
  
"Sure Tom."  
  
He closed the door behind him and sank into his chair. His work station beeped at him, but he ignored it for the moment. Remembering his words to Chloe.  
  
"I'm not Jack."  
  
THE GARAGE CLUB, LA 9PM  
  
She felt more comfortable like this. Dressed casually, for the streets, rather than for her interview. Ashley glanced around the club, picking out the bouncers and the dealers, the pimps and the whores. Squinting through the strobe lighting.  
  
There.  
  
She saw Alyson, just as the lights flashed brightly through the club, illuminating everything with a harsh red glow. Walking towards a raised area, to the side of the dance floor, cordoned off with a velvet rope. As she watched, Ashley saw one of the security staff unhook the rope for her.  
  
"Time to go to work." She gave herself a final glance, making sure that everything was in place.  
  
Then she started to walk across the club, sliding through the crowded dance floor.  
  
WHARF 4, WEST LA  
  
"I know she's a bitch, but she's good at the job." Nathan passed Tom the night vision goggles, and then highlighted the visual display. "I think we should move Rodgers and Forest to here and here." He pointed at the new locations. "Gives us better fire cover."  
  
Tom looked at the display and nodded. "Do it."  
  
"Delta 2, this is Delta Control."  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
"Move your cell to new position..." he glanced at the map again. "N72, E44"  
  
"Copy that."  
  
Baker waited until the conversation finished. "I know she's good at the job, I just want to know why she makes everything into such a big production."  
  
Nathan shrugged. "What time is it?"  
  
"Little after 9." Baker stared through the night vision goggles, scanning the wharf. "They should be here soon."  
  
"If they're coming."  
  
Baker grinned. "Oh they're coming. Modline would have sold us his own mother if he thought that would reduce his sentence." He tightened his grip on the goggles. "I may not be Jack, but I do know that."  
  
Wisely, Nathan kept his mouth shut.  
  
THE GARAGE CLUB  
  
"You can't come in here." The bouncer thrust his arm across her, blocking the way up. "Private party."  
  
"I've been invited." Ashley smiled at him and tried to slide past him.  
  
"No you haven't." He turned his body to stop her moving past him, putting his hands on her shoulders, pushing her away, back down the steps.  
  
She went with the motion.  
  
Reaching grabbing, fumbling for the rope as she fell. Dragging it and the pole down with her. She stumbled to her knees, seeing Alyson Rawlings looking at her, half on her feet, at the confrontation.  
  
"Asshole."  
  
She felt the dance floor, messily sticky beneath her hands as she pushed herself to her feet. She could see Alyson now at the edge of the roped off area. Ashley pointed at her. "I have something for her."  
  
Alyson put her hand on the bouncers shoulder. Attracting his attention. She looked past him at Ashley, her eyes empty. Desolate. Longing.  
  
"Did Samuel send you?"  
  
Ashley could barely hear her over the band. She nodded.  
  
"Let her through Rob." Alyson turned around and walked back to her seat as Rob moved out of Ashley's way. Replacing the rope behind as she passed him.  
  
Ashley brushed her hair out of her face and walked after Alyson.  
  
She was in. 


	4. Chapter Three

Apologies for the delay in updating, life has just been crazy for the past fortnight.

**Chapter Three**

Michelle pushed open her office door, walking out onto the mezzanine floor overlooking CTU, her heels clicking against the platform, echoing around her.

"Could I have your attention, please?"

Almost instantly, all conversation in the bullpen ceased, apart from the soft murmur of personnel answering phones. Every eye trained on her. Waiting for her instructions, her commands.

'This shouldn't be me' she thought. 'This should be George or Jack or....'

But it wasn't George or Jack or Tony. Not anymore. It was her duty, her responsibility, her job to command.

She looked around the bullpen. "I've just spoken to Tom. His teams are in position and they're waiting for the hostiles to arrive. Chloe, I want you to start pulling satellite info for the area. Adam, co-ordinate with local law enforcement, make sure Tom gets the support he needs. Run any intel you pick up through Tony. Any questions?"

"What about the money trail?"

"Send it to my screen. I'll work that thread. Anything else?" She looked around the bullpen, at her staff. "Lets get back to work. I want updates from the wharf every ten minutes."

Michelle turned quickly and walked back to her office. Fighting the urge to run. She pretended not to hear footsteps on the stairs behind her. Refusing to look around, she walked across her office, feeling her temples throb with every step. She sank into her chair, her hands coming up to massage her forehead. She felt her wedding ring, cool against her hot skin.

"Michelle, are you sure I should be running tactical?"

She closed her eyes, still rubbing her forehead. "Of course I'm sure, Tony." Her workstation beeped, as the information Adam had sent arrived on her computer.

Tony moved closer to her desk. "It's just...I've been thinking about what you and Natasha said. I don't want you to get into any more trouble, just because Hammond has it in for me."

Michelle sighed, forcing her hands away from her forehead, opening her eyes to look at him. "Tony, can you run tactical for this operation?" She flinched when she heard how cold her words sounded.

Was this what this job was doing to her? To them?

She hardened her heart. They had a job to do.

He met her eyes evenly. "You know I can Michelle."

"I know, Tony." She tried to smile. "You run tactical, and let me deal with Hammond."

He nodded and walked across the office, stopping at her door. "You okay, sweetheart?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got a migraine coming on."

She waited until he left the office, until she could hear his footsteps on the stairs leading to the bullpen. Michelle sighed and leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes again.

She hadn't told Tony that Hammond had already been on the phone to her. Had already demanded an appraisal of Tony's performance.

How could she tell him that?

THE GARAGE CLUB, LA

The alcove was shadowed, dark. Lit only by the flashes of strobe lighting and two small candles, gleaming pathetically against the darkness of the club. Ashley slid into the seat opposite Alyson. Feeling the reassuring weight of her gun, pressing against her.

Alyson pulled out a cigarette and lifted one of the candles. Trying to get a light off the tiny flame.

"Do you want a light?" Ashley produced her Zippo, and worked the mechanism. Alyson leaned across the table, putting her hand on Ashley's to hold the lighter steady.

The end of the cigarette glowed red in the darkness as Alyson took a long drag. She leaned back, blowing a cloud of smoke across the alcove. Ashley sat forward, resting her elbows on the table, clicking her lighter on and off, another little gleam of light in the darkness of the alcove

She kept stealing glances around her. Where was Williams?

"Did he give you anything for me?" Alyson's voice was harsh, hoarse. Her eyes meeting Ashley's, and then sliding away. She took a hasty, almost, embarrassed drag of her cigarette.

"Yeah, well, he paid for this." Ashley reached into the inside pocket of her jacket, starting to pull out a small sealed bag.

"No!" Alyson's shout was audible, through a sudden brief silence in the music. She ducked down, her face flushed, even though no one else in the club could have known where the noise came from. "No. Not here." She leaned forward, her elbows almost touching Ashley's. "Did he give you anything else for me?"

Ashley shook her head.

"Shit!" Alyson blinked rapidly, tears sparkling in her eyes, clearly visible despite the dim light. "Shit." She started to fumble through her bag, tears tearing tracks down her cheeks, smearing her makeup. She pulled out a mobile phone.

It started to ring as she lifted it out of the bag. She flipped it open and held it to her ear. Ashley leaned back, pretending to entertain herself by snapping her lighter on and off. Listening intently.

"Where?" Alyson's face twisted. She fumbled through the bag again, pulling out a handkerchief. She touched it to her eyes. "Who?" She closed her eyes as she listened, fresh tears bubbling against her lashes. "Okay."

She snapped the phone closed and put it back in her bag. She rose to her feet, still refusing to meet Ashley's eyes. She jerked her head towards the club exit.

"Come on."

WHAF 4, WEST LA

"Tom, we got something moving in the harbour. About two thousand metres out, coming your way."

Tom pressed a gloved hand against his radio. "Copy that, Tony. All Delta units, keep an eye out." He turned to the men standing with him and Nathan. He signalled one section and pointed to the left, then at the rest and Nathan and pointed to the right. They quickly moved to their assigned positions.

Creeping forward. Weapons ready. Staying low. Etching as much cover as they could.

"750 metres." Even Tony's voice was low, scared to break the stillness. Adam would be able to tell him that the Delta teams were moving into position.

He wasn't Jack.

Angrily, Tom shook his head, forcing away the echo of his earlier words. He ducked behind a crate. He could almost see the boat, through his goggles. He could hear the engine churning through the waves. Tom pressed the radio, checking Nathan's position.

Two clicks came back, almost instantly. Nathan was in position and ready.

He could see the boat, naturally, now, almost at the mouth of the wharf. The engine stilled as it approached, drifting towards the dock. It touched against it with a bump, almost shockingly loud in the stillness.

A man jumped over the edge and started to secure the boat. He had an automatic weapon slung over his shoulder, and he worked by feel. Glancing cautiously around the wharf. Two more men appeared on the deck of the ship. One jumped onto the wharf, while the other started to hand him wooden crates over the edge of the boat.

Tony's voice broke into Tom's ear. "We got movement from the east side. Large black van heading your way."

"Rodgers, Forest, make the interception. Do it quietly." Tom kept his eyes on the unloading operation. Wondering, irrationally, if they had heard him.

"Copy that."

He pulled out his PDA, checking the Delta team's positions. Needing that reassurance. He risked another look over the top of the crate, hastily ducking back down. He clicked his radio on.

"This is Baker. Take them."

The van slowed as it made his way through the wharf complex. The driver killed the lights, steering carefully down the cluttered approach road.

Forest stepped into the road in front of it. He levelled his gun at the vehicle, clicking on the torch attached to it, shinning it through the window, illuminating a young man, untidily dressed, with an untidy beard.

He covered his eyes and jerked the wheel to one side, the van slowing further.

Rodgers jerked the door open, his gun pointed at the driver, just as Forest stepped closer. Covered, the driver raised his hands in surrender.

"Stop! CTU!"

The man crouching next to the boat spun on his knee, raking the area with automatic gun fire. Nathan threw himself on the ground, sliding behind another crate. He felt the dock, rough against his knees. Bullets slammed into the crate around him, showering him with splinters.

Behind him, members of his Delta team took cover as well. He heard gunshots, echoing around him, spent cartridges dropping onto the dock.

He rose to his knees, risking a look from cover. More bullets. Slamming into the crate.

He signalled at his team, and spun out into the open, firing at the boat, seeing the hostiles duck for cover. His team ran forward, firing as they moved.

Baker moved his team forward at the same time, using what crates they could for cover. Taking advantage of the confusion caused by Nathan's section to creep forward.

There were more men on the deck of the boat. Trying desperately to provide some covering fire, but finding themselves pinned down by CTU fire.

One of them leaned over the boat, a jagged knife in his hand. Meaning to cut the rope.

Gault's bullet took him in the chest.

Baker's team moved in from the left, firing as they moved. Allowing the other unit to creep forward.

Keeping moving, keeping firing. Keeping the boat's crew pinned down.

Caught in the pincer, the moping up didn't take too long.

There was a car waiting for them outside the club, the windows tinted and the headlights off. Alyson didn't look around, walking straight to the car with an air of grim resignation.

She didn't speak as the car drove through LA. Didn't look around her. Staring straight ahead, her lips thinned with determination.

Looking closer, Ashley saw marks in her lower lip where she had bitten it, her fingers whitening as she gripped the seat.

The car slowed to a halt outside a housing complex. Lights glistened in the windows of some of the rooms, isolated reminders of normality. The driver didn't look around. "Get out."

He drove off, almost as soon as the door had closed.

Alyson walked straight to an apartment, more battered than the others, the windows and the door showing signs of careless repair. She knocked on the door.

It opened quickly, quietly, despite it's worn and battered appearance. Alyson walked into the apartment. Ashley hesitated. Touching her cell phone, her gun. Reassuring herself of their presence. Then she followed after Alyson.

It looked worse on the inside. Uncarpeted, unlived in, the furniture dilapidated and threadbare, it stank of abandonment, of carelessness.

Of loneliness.

The door shut after her, a shadowy figure working the lock mechanism.

Again, she dropped her hand to her gun.

The figure looked past her, staring at Alyson. "He's through there."

Ashley followed Alyson into the living room. There was a man, sitting in a chair, his back to the window. He smiled when he saw the marks her tears had made in her face.

Alyson walked over to him. Pretending to ignore his hungry stare, her own eyes dead. "Let's get this over with."

"Not so fast." He nodded at Ashley. "Who's she?"

"Samuel sent her."

"Did he?" He rose to his feet, dark shirt tucked into dark jeans, moving towards Ashley, his long fingers curling into casually, cruel fists. Looming over her.

She took a step back, careful, in the dark living room. Not all of her sudden rush of fear was an act.

"Did you bring any?"

Ashley nodded, pulling the small bag from her jacket. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Alyson turn towards her, eyes lighting up, her hands reaching, pleading for the bag.

"Okay." His smile was cruel and harsh. He turned his back on her, dismissing her, and walked back to his seat.

"Can I have some, Jake?" Alyson glanced over her shoulder at Ashley. "Please?"

"You know the way this works, Alyson."

She nodded and sank to her knees, kneeling between his spread legs. Small fingers working at his zipper and belt, her head bending over him...

A sudden light flared through the dark room.

Ashley spun on her heel, hand reaching for her gun. "What the fuck are you doing?"

The man from the door was taking photos.

"What are you doing?" Ashley knocked the camera to one side, just as he lined up another shot. "I don't want to be part of your fucking porn movie, you fucking sick fuck." She made another grab for the camera.

The man backed away, holding his camera out of her reach. "This is nothing to do with you. This is between her and Samuel." He nodded at Alyson.

Jake pushed Alyson away from him and zipped himself up. She scrambled backwards, away from him, not daring to rise to her feet. He stood up. "Samuel wants that done within 36 hours."

He reached into his back pocket, and Ashley tensed, ready to move.

He threw a couple of photos at Alyson, striking her on the face with them, and walked past her.

He glanced at Ashley on his way out. "She can have that now."

Michelle ignored the signal from her workstation for as long as she could. Hoping that Hammond would decide that this meeting could wait. She rubbed at her eyes and took another mouthful of coffee.

The workstation beeped again.

She turned in her chair and accessed the meeting program. "Good evening Brad, Natasha." She fought to keep her features steady. Both of them? "I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but we've been conducting an operation here."

"Well do you mind if we get started, then Michelle? It is very late, and I'm sure we're all keen to get home to our families."

Even Natasha flinched at Hammond's sarcasm.

Michelle smiled, determined not to let him provoke her. "Fine." The one way she could help Tony was for her to keep her cool.

Hammond stared at her for a second and then nodded at Natasha.

Michelle pressed a button on her keyboard, recording the meeting.

"This is a special meeting regarding Special Agent Tony Almeida and his recent actions and conduct. Present are myself, Natasha Grey, Head of Division, and Brad Hammond, Head of CTU. Also present is..."

"Michelle Dessler, Director of CTU LA."

"This meeting is part of a series dealing with Agent Almeida's probation and his current status within CTU. Michelle, what operations has Agent Almeida been involved with recently?"

"He ran tactical communications for two CTU field operations in the past day. Both operations were a complete success, and both I and Director of Field Operations Tom Baker have total confidence in Agent Almeida's abilities."

She hated referring to him as 'Agent Almeida'

'Distance, Michelle' she reminded herself. 'Distance. Keep your cool.'

Her door knocked and she looked around, signalling for Tom to come in.

"Are there any further questions? My field agents have just returned and I'd like to speak to them."

"No, Michelle, that's all for now. Have a good evening."

"Good night." Michelle severed the connection and rested her head in her hands. "How'd it go out there?"

Tom shrugged. "Good. One dead, three injured and another two arrested. Three of our guys hurt."

"How did Tony do?"

"He did fine, Michelle. You know I wouldn't be putting our guys on the line if I didn't trust him, if I didn't think he was up to it." Tom sat down on her couch, still dressed in his SWAT gear. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just Hammond." She rubbed at her temples again. "Is everybody in custody?"

"Yeah, I was going to leave the interrogation until morning. Let them stew overnight in the cells."

"Good idea." She picked up her phone and dialled down to the bullpen. "Adam? It's Michelle. Is the night shift here yet? Make sure they've been brought up to speed and then tell everybody that they did a good job tonight, and that they're to go home and get some sleep. We'll hit this again in the morning when we're all fresh."

Nathan stopped at Tony's station on the way out. "You want a lift, Tony?"

"No, thanks." He glanced up at the Directors Office, at Michelle, still working, trying to finish a few final tasks. "I'll wait on her."


	5. Chapter Four

Hey, thank you to everybody that has reviewed the story so far. Hope you are all still enjoying it.

Here's Chapter Four. Once again, please read and review....

**Chapter Four**

Hammond drummed his fingers on the top of the table, staring at the now blank screen. A secretary knocked and opened the door. She glanced at Hammond and walked quickly to Natasha.

"Ma'am, here are the reports you wanted."

"Thank you, Ellen." Natasha took the report off her, and opened it, every page watermarked with the CTU logo. She barely heard the door of her office closing, paging through the report, noting comments made by Tom Baker, Michelle Dessler and other agents.

Including herself.

She felt Hammond's gaze on her and forced herself to keep reading. Forced herself to ignore the sound of his fingers against the glass table top, bruising against nerves already stretched by tiredness and frustration.

She kept reading.

"What are you reading, Natasha?" His voice, coloured with anger and impatience.

She kept reading, turning another page. Another page filled with detailed mission reports, of transcripts of meetings. "They're appraisals Brad. Progress reports."

"Of whom?" He didn't need her to tell him. He already knew the answer.

She played along anyway. "Tony Almeida."

Brad snorted. Since her promotion, Natasha Grey had made protecting Tony Almeida her personal goal. Agency gossip already had her earmarked for a bright future, influence which had already helped Michelle Dessler secure her position at CTU. He snorted again. "And what do they say?"

She turned another page. "That Agent Alemida's conduct and actions since he returned from suspension have been exemplary. That he's going about his duties as if he has something to prove."

"And what do you think Natasha?"

Another rhetorical question. He knew what she thought about the 'Almeida Situation.' He could recite her opinion word for word.

"I think your actions almost cost us two fine agents, losses we could ill afford in the situation. I think your actions could still cost us two fine agents." She didn't even add a 'sir' at the end of the sentence.

Chapelle had never spoken to him in that way. But then Chapelle had never had the connections that Natasha Grey had, nor the skill or personality to use them. "You do know that Tony Almeida committed treason against this country, that he facilitated the escape of a known terrorist, don't you Natasha?"

She finished reading the report, signed her name on the last page. "I know that Tony Almeida was pardoned." She tapped the blue cover of the file. "I know that he has done a hell of a job since he returned. I think its time we took him off probation."

Brad shook his head. "No."

"Brad..."

He raised his voice. "I said no, Natasha! I had to take him back, on Palmer's orders. He is on probation for a year. He fucked up once, I do not share your belief that he won't fuck up again." He rose to his feet, leaning over the table, resting his weight on his hands. "He makes a mistake and he's gone." He walked towards the door. "And not even you will be able to protect him."

Natasha waited until Hammond left the room. She pushed the report away and smiled grimly. "**That** went well."

Lacking the strength to stand, Alyson crawled across the uncarpeted floor, feeling it rough and cold on her bare knees. She leaned against the chair Jake had sat in, feeling her stomach lurch and twist.

Ashley looked away as she heard Alyson vomit in the corner of the disused room, her retching the only sound in the dark and otherwise silent room. She saw the photos lying crumpled, forgotten where Jake had thrown them. She knelt next to them, keeping a careful eye on the distracted Alyson, slipping one inside her jacket pocket.

Alyson coughed and spat, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Still on her knees, she put her back against the chair and closed her eyes.

How many times? How many different men?

The photos....

Alyson opened her eyes to see Ashley holding a photo in her hands. Hastily she scanned the floor, looking for anymore. Just one, that one. And he had taken others.

His price was rising.

She lurched to her feet, stumbling. "Give that to me. Are there any more?"

Ashley shrugged and handed the photo over. "That's the only one I saw." She resisted the urge to check her clothing, to make sure the photo was still hidden. This role was easy. This role she could play in her sleep.

"Can I borrow your lighter?" Alyson worked the mechanism and the photo burst into flames, bright and hot in the cold room. Alyson held it as long as she could, then threw it on the floor, grinding it beneath the sole of her shoe. Breathing harshly, she handed the lighter back. "Thanks."

Ashley took the lighter back. "What the hell was that about?"

"Doesn't matter." Alyson fought to control her breathing. She reached out a shaking hand. "Can I...?" Part of her hoped that the other woman would just turn and walk away.

Part of her needed her to...

"Sure. You paid for it." Paid for it in more ways than one.

Alyson seized the bag with greedy hands, weighing it in the palm of her hand. Even that was less than normal. His price was going up, along with his expectations and his demands.

"You want to go somewhere? Have a drink or something?"

Ashley shrugged. "Sure." She touched her cell phone, thinking about calling CTU, telling them what she had learned. She shook her head, taking her hands away, pulling her jacket close around her body.

'Lets see what way this plays out.'

Michelle looked out of the window as they drove. Watching LA as they passed through it. She had always loved LA at night, loved it when they sat at the back of their house, watching the sun go down.

Not that they had done that for a while. Not since she had....

She sighed, leaning against the side window, her head still throbbing. The window felt blissfully cool against her cheek. She could almost sleep here, the vibrations of the car, the sound of the engine almost lulling her to...

"You okay, sweetheart?"

"Yeah, just tired." She didn't open her eyes. But she felt his free hand take hers, give it a brief squeeze.

"Hammond give you a hard time?" Tony wound his window down, flooding the car with cool air. He knew she felt queasy when the car got too stuffy, too hot. "I'd have thought he'd have been ecstatic, given the results we've been getting."

Michelle didn't answer. Squirming in her seat, trying to get comfortable again.

"Or is he still holding me against you?"

"Please Tony, I don't want to talk about work. Please? Cant we just go home, have a few drinks, relax and forget about that damn place?"

"Whatever the Director wants." His sarcasm cutting through the air.

"Don't be like that Tony." Michelle forced herself to sit upright, forcing herself awake. "I had to step up. I didn't have a choice. You were...and Jack was gone. What else could I do Tony? What would you have done?"

As quickly as it had come, his anger disappeared. He could never stay angry at her for too long. It wasn't even her that he was angry at, more the job which demanded so much of them both and gave so little. Sometimes he just wished he had quit when his pardon had come through.

Except he couldn't leave Michelle swimming alone against sharks like Hammond. Natasha Grey might be an ally, but that only made her a friendly shark.

"I'd have done the same thing as you sweetheart." He squeezed her hand again. "Try and get some sleep." She had been so tired recently. "I'll wake you when we get home."

"Thanks Tony." She slumped against the window, still holding his hand tightly and tried to sleep.

"Line 'em up."

"Don't you think you've had enough?"

The bearded man, heavyset, broad shouldered, leaned across the bar. Close enough for the bar man to see the bags under his eyes, smell the booze and cigarettes from his breath. Feel the power in his corded arms.

See the haunted look in his eyes.

"Line 'em up."

The barman filled the shot glasses with Tequila, his arm shaking, spilling booze across the stained bar. The bearded man counted dollar bills onto the bar top and the barman snatched them up. Scared to linger too long.

The man lifted a shot glass and tossed it back. Grimacing as the bitter alcohol hit the back of his throat. He lit a cigarette and took a drag , blowing a smoke ring up into the cloudy atmosphere.

He lifted another shot. Stopping and staring at the tattoo on the inside of his wrist. He thought briefly about hiding it, then shrugged and drank another shot.

That tattoo had made him the man he was today.

"I've just left her."

"How many did you leave?"

"Two." Jake shifted his phone to his other ear and grinned at the driver. "Don't worry, Mikey got a couple of good ones, real good ones."

"Is she still co-operating?"

"The way you got her jonsing man, she'll bend over anything, anyway you want." Jake laughed nastily, Mike grinning as he changed lanes. "I guess you could say she's still co-operating, yeah."

"How long til everything's in place?"

"Tomorrow evening."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure." Jake grinned again, remembering the expression on her face. "I left her in tears, man."

"I hope you didn't push her too hard. I want her breaking, not broken."

"She's still in one piece, don't worry."

"Good, I'll make the arrangements with Oliver. Be ready."

Her apartment didn't look like Ashley had imagined it. Small, neat, tidy. Homelike.

"Make yourself comfortable. I'll be back in a second." Alyson hung her jacket on the back of the chair and disappeared through a door into another room.

The living room was small, cluttered with photographs. Ashley looked through them. Most of them were of Alyson and another man, about the same age, clean shaven, handsome. His arms around Alyson, both of them smiling at the camera.

A diamond ring sparkled on the ring finger of her left hand.

The man wasn't Samuel Williams.

The rattling of a bottle alerted her to Alyson's return. She hastily took her seat, lighting a cigarette, blowing as much smoke into the air as she could, trying to create the image that she had been smoking since Alyson left the room.

Alyson had changed into something more casual, jeans and a loose shirt. She sat down opposite Ashley and poured her a drink, and then another for herself. She held the glass up.

"Cheers."

Ashley lifted hers. "Here's to men. Those bastards'll fuck you over every time."

"I'll drink to that." Alyson took a mouthful and set her drink down. She lifted the small plastic bag out of her jacket. This was what she sold her soul for. She opened the bag and poured the contents onto the table.

Ashley watched her carefully as she worked.

There was a lighter band of skin on the ring finger of Alyson Rawlings' left hand.

He heard the faint sounds of the juke box, momentarily drowned out by the noise of a cue ball slamming into the rack. Startling him from his thoughts.

He lifted his beer bottle, tilting it against his lips. Empty.

"Shit."

"You want another, Nathan?"

"Yeah, thanks Johnny."

Nathan leaned back against the wall at the corner of the bar, looking around. Noting who else was in Dino's. There was Dan and Mark, propped against the bar, shit faced as usual. Luke and his boys, drinking and playing pool. And then there was...

"Hello." He leaned forward as Johnny came back with his beer. "Johnny, who's she?"

"Who?" Johnny glanced over his shoulder, following Nathan's gaze. "Oh, her." He shook his head admiringly. "Bunch of them came in earlier, some sort of work party. Most of 'em fucked off already." He pointed at a table, laden with empty glasses and bottles. "Still a few here, though."

Nathan pulled another bill from his wallet. "Get her a drink. Tell her it's on me."

Tom stood in front of the mirror. His hair and body still damp from the shower, the bathroom misting up from the steam.

He wiped the mirror clear, staring at his reflection.

Today, tonight, had gone well. Everything had gone according to plan. For once.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror.

For the first time since he had become Director of Field Ops, Tom Baker was able to meet his own eyes and smile.

"We're all set at this end."

"When for?"

"I'll have access to the funds tomorrow evening. I'll be in a position to make the buy by 10pm at the latest."

"So when do my friends get their merchandise?"

"It'll take a little time, just to muddy the waters between us, make sure there's nothing to connect us. But soon."

"I'll speak to you when everything is in place."

The phone line went dead.


	6. Chapter 5

Hey Kita, thanks for the review and the compliment. Made my day.

I THINK that I may finally have figured out what the problem with the formatting is. No promises, though,

This chapter inspired by Live at Sine and August and Everything After

**Chapter 5**

Nathan woke suddenly, in a strange bed, his eyes darting around the room. Trying to remember where he was. Trying to remember what had happened. He felt pressure on his arm, weight across his body, soft breath against the underside of his chin. He turned slightly, seeing the girl from Dinos....

...what was her name? Rebecca? He remembered her telling him her name, sometime in a haze of beer and shots. Remembered watching her ass as she leaned over the pool table to play her shot...

...lying next to him, a mess of entwined limbs. He lifted the covers slightly, untangling himself from her. Moving slowly, carefully. Wanting to slip away before she woke,

His feet touched the floor next to the bed and it creaked slightly. She murmured softly in her sleep and he froze. Holding his breath until she rolled over, settling deeper into her pillows. Pulling the sheet up around her naked shoulders.

Nathan stood, walking softly, slowly across her room. Lifting his clothes from where they had been thrown the previous night. Walking carefully, on his toes. He lifted his jeans, draping them across his pile of clothes. He wouldn't risk dressing here, in her room. Too much chance of waking her.

Almost free now, his hand on the handle of her bedroom door.

"You don't have to sneak out."

Her voice was sleepy, slurred. He looked back over his shoulder, as she sat up, holding the blanket up to cover her, her eyes blinking in the dim light. "What time is it?"

"Little after 7." Nathan looked around the room, casting around for a believable story. "I have to go to work, Rebecca. I didn't want to wake you." He prayed that that was her name. Otherwise...

"Bullshit." She yawned, starting to stretch. Then stopped, suddenly shy, conscious of his eyes on her. "At least you got my name right. At least you're not a complete bastard."

"What's mine?" Suddenly curious, still clutching his clothes. Smiling at her. He remembered her smiling and laughing in Dinos. Remembered, through the haze, doing everything he could to make her smile, make her laugh.

"Nathan." She didn't smile. Lying back down, rolling over in bed, avoiding looking at him. She bit her lip. "Make sure you close the door on your way out."

He could see her shoulders, hear her voice shake.

He sighed, shifting his grip on his clothes, putting his hand back on the door handle. "Rebecca...."

"Get out Nathan!"

"I'll call you later, okay?"

She still didn't look at him. "Whatever." She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to pretend that she was still asleep. She should have kept her eyes closed. At least then she wouldn't have had to watch him leave. At least then, she wouldn't have made such a fool of herself.

He watched her pretend to sleep. Watched her shoulders shake as she tried to control her sobs. He slipped out through her bedroom door. Pausing on the landing to dress.

He could hear her crying through the bedroom door.

"Hey! That's my cup!"

Ashley stopped in the middle of pouring herself a cup of coffee. "Sorry, I didn't know." She handed the cup over to the other woman. "I'm new here."

"Well, that's no excuse." She held the cup up. "See. It's clearly marked with my initials. COB. You see?" She pushed the cup forward, pointing at the small initials on the side.

"I know, I'm sorry." Ashley raised her hands defensively. "Last place I worked, we just had communal mugs." She held out her hand cautiously. "I'm Ashley."

"Chloe." She gripped Ashley's hand briefly. "It's okay. You don't look like you have any diseases or anything like that." She looked at the coffee and poured it down the sink. "You're here early." She set the kettle to boil again.

"I'm not used to the time yet. It's still dark in New York."

"Ashley, Michelle wants you in the conference room as soon as possible." Tony set his mug down on the counter. Tapping his foot as he waited impatiently for the kettle to boil. "Morning Chloe."

"Morning Tony." Chloe fell silent. Not making eye contact. It was still strange to have Tony back, working at CTU as if nothing had ever happened. She made her coffee and left as quickly as she could.

Tony poured a cup for himself and for Ashley. "The conference room is this way." He pushed the door open and followed her into the room. She looked around for a second and took the closest seat.

Michelle and Tom were already there, sitting at the head of the table. She drew breath to speak and stopped as the door knocked. Nathan grinned ruefully and sat down next to Ashley. "Sorry Michelle." Tom leaned back in his chair, trying to hide his own smile.

She nodded and looked at Ashley. "How did last night go?"

"Okay." Ashley took the photograph from her pocket and pushed it over to Michelle. "I don't think the girl's involved. At least not willingly."

Michelle looked at the picture and passed it over to Tom. "Blackmail?"

Ashley nodded. "Looks like it. They took a couple more last night. Williams wasn't there."

"We have some photos of Williams' organisation on file." Tom made a note on his pad. "Ashley, why don't you take a look at them when we get finished up here, see if you recognise anybody."

"Good. Anything else from last night?"

"She's got a day to do what they wanted. I got the feeling it wasn't the first time she'd done it, either."

Adam clicked his fingers. "The money! She must be transferring the money from Rawlings to Williams' account."

Michelle nodded. "Okay, set up on both accounts. See if there's any withdrawals or deposits in either account." She looked around the table. "Anything else? Okay, you all know what you're doing."

The conference room emptied quickly. Michelle took another minute, gathering the strength to climb the stairs to her office. She could feel her headache starting already.

Alyson heard the noise of the office through a haze of cotton wool, the sound of telephones, of computers, of conversation muted. Hushed.

She felt her hand shake, a reminder of the previous night. Of everything she had done, everything she had allowed to be done to her.

She wiped her hand on her trousers. Not that she was likely to forget.

She glanced over her shoulder, seeing her supervisor at the far end of the office. Alyson looked away quickly, before Rebecca could catch her eye. Bending her head over her keyboard, her loose hair covering her pale cheeks. Sweat beading on her forehead, she started to type.

Even the thought of what she had done, of what he had made her do, made her sick to the stomach.

She typed quickly. She knew exactly what she was doing. She had done it too many times in the past. Each key press another nail of guilt into her heart.

She was stealing from her father.

Alyson watched the screen until the words she dreaded flashed up : **TRANSACTION COMPLETED**. She picked up her phone and dialled his number.

"It's done."

"Tom, have you seen Michelle?"

"She's in her office, Adam. What's up?"

"She had me monitoring those bank accounts, in the Rawlings case." Adam highlighted a series of transactions on his screen. "This one, about twenty minutes ago, under Alyson's access code." He clicked rapidly, opening another screen. "And then, here, about five minutes ago. The same amount in Williams' account." He leaned back in his chair, looking pleased with himself.

Tom clapped him on the back. "Brilliant, Adam."

"Do you want me to bring this to Michelle?"

"No." Tom was thinking rapidly. "No, I'll do it. Good work Adam." He clapped Adam on the back again and started to climb the stairs towards the Directors office.

Adam watched him go, eyebrows raised in surprise. He looked around, met Tony's eyes, shrugged and turned back to his screen.

"I understand Mr Jarode's concerns, Darren, but..."

"I don't think you do, Mr Hammond. The Senator is concerned that it seems like we punished a man for trying to protect his wife, which is his duty in the eyes of God."

Brad ground his teeth. Michael Jarode had been elected with the support of the Christian Right and now he sent his pet bulldog after Brad. "He facilitated the escape of a known terrorist."

Darren Rose might be Jarode's pet bulldog, but Brad Hammond was starting to believe that somebody else's hand might be holding the leash.

"He's a proven agent, a man with an exemplary service record."

"He put the life of his wife before the lives of millions. I'm sorry Darren, but I don't think there are any excuses or any defence for his actions. He compromised the defence of this country."

"The Senator disagrees. He hopes you are not compromising the defence of this country by your actions and asks you to remember that the position of CTU director has to be confirmed by Congress."

"Tell the Senator that I don't appreciate being threatened. Goodbye Darren." He slammed the phone down, breathing heavily. Then lifted it again. "Mary, could you put me through to Natasha's office?"

"Right away sir."

The phone clicked twice, then rang briefly. He felt his temper start to rise.

Ellen answered efficiently, professionally. "Natasha Grey's office, can I help you?"

"It's Brad Hammond. Is Natasha there?"

"One second please, sir. I'll just check for you."

The line went silent. Brad fumed in impatience. He loosened his tie, glancing at the clock on his desk. And again, wondering how long it would take her...

"Mr Hammond?" Ellen's voice reappeared suddenly in his ear. "I'm sorry sir, but Ms Grey is unavailable at the minute. Can I take a mess..."

Brad hung up, cutting her off in mid flow. He didn't want to look like he was chasing after her, didn't want to appear weak. Especially not at the minute.

Natasha Grey was coming after him.

"....simple plan." Tom stopped pacing and sat down opposite Nathan and Ashley. "Minimal risk, easy to execute."

"I don't think she knows anything else about Williams." Ashley shook her head. "All we're doing is risking my cover."

"There's not much risk involved, Ashley. We've made this sort of play before. If it looks like it's going to burn you, then we'll abort, right Nathan?"

"Sure." Nathan grinned, leaning back in his chair. His smile faded as soon as Tom looked away. He could still smell her perfume from his shirt.

"Ashley?"

"Okay. When do we do this?"

"Tonight." Tom stood up. "The Director's already signed off on the operation."

"Samuel! Good to see you again!"

"And you."

"Is everything ready?"

"I just need to check that the money is in place." He glanced at his watch. "My contact was supposed to have all this arranged, so it shouldn't be too much longer."

Almost on cue, his phone rang. He answered it, listening briefly . "Everything is set. Do you want the money transferred into the usual account?"

"Yes."

"Make the transfer. Usual account." He hung up. "We're transferring the money now."

"As soon as the money's in our account, we'll make arrangements to the deposit the merchandise." The man turned away from Samuel, glancing back at his car. Samuel could see a man, sitting in the passenger seat, a lap top balanced across his lap.

His contact's phone rang. He flipped it open. "Yes? Okay, arrange the drop." He turned back to Samuel and shook hands. "Good to see you again."

Samuel dialled another number on his phone as he walked back to his car. "Jake, it's me." He paused, leaning on the car door. "They've been paid, so the drop should be happening soon. Be ready."

He hung up as he got into his car. Drove off, accelerating away from the meeting place.

"Hey Alyson."

"Hey." Alyson looked around, making sure no one was watching her before walking over. "What are you doing here?" She looked around again. Nervous. Concerned. Pale faced, shivering, despite the sweat on her forehead.

She wrapped her arms around herself and tried to stop shaking.

Ashley saw her shake, the dark marks on the flesh beneath her bloodshot eyes. Despite herself, she smiled. This was going to be easier than she had expected.

"I've got some more. Better than that shit we had last night." She thought quickly, sweetening the pill a little bit more. "Samuel phoned me, told me everything worked out, said you deserved a reward. No charge."

Alyson smiled, her features easing, tension seeming to drain from her face. "He said that?" Scarcely daring to hope, to breath.

Ashley nodded. "He did." She looked over her shoulder. "My place is just around the corner. You wanna go...."

"Sure."

Alyson sat at the low table, her practiced fingers working quickly. Singing along with the stereo.

It had been easy to kill her guilt.

Ashley sat on the other chair, nursing a beer. She heard footsteps outside her apartment and sat up suddenly, spilling beer over the arm of her chair. "Did you hear something?"

"Nope." Alyson blinked, managing to focus on her. "Siddown, have some..."

"I swear to fuck there's something out there." Ashley rose to her feet, lifting her gun from inside her jacket. Walking over to the door.

The door exploded suddenly, knocked from its hinges.

Her apartment full of uniformed figures. She felt herself pushed against the wall, the gun knocked from her hands, twisted painfully behind her back, feeling the metal cuffs bite into her wrists, the officer behind her pulling her arms taut. She bit her lip against the pain. As he pulled her away from the wall, she managed to look at Alyson over her shoulder.

Like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Manhandled to her feet. Handcuffed.

"You're both under arrest." Another officer, dressed in plain clothes, his badge hanging on a chain around his neck, pulled a card from his pocket. "You have the right to remain silent..."


	7. Chapter Six

Thanks for the reviews. Obviously I didn't fix the format problem, but I'll try something else in this chapter. BTW I don't know what scale Americans use for measuring temperature, so I stuck to the one I knew!

**Chapter Six**

"Sorry."

Ashley heard the key work quickly in the lock and the constraints around her wrists were gone, the pressure on her arms relaxed. She stretched, moving her arms, working strained muscles, rubbing at the red marks cut into the flesh of her wrists.

"We had to make it look realistic." Nathan coiled up the handcuffs and tucked them back into the holder at the small of his back. "Make sure there was no threat to your cover."

"It's okay." She felt the feeling start to return to her hands. "Where are they keeping her?"

"Interrogation One." Nathan jerked his head in the direction of the room. "Tom's just about to start."

"How hard is he going to push her?"

Nathan glanced at her, raising his eyebrows. "She may have evidence relating to a terrorist, Ashley. He's going to push her as hard as he needs to. There's too much at stake."

"I know." She ran her hand through her hair. "I know."

"Tom wants both of us to observe. See if we can pick up on anything he might miss." He walked towards the door, knocked on it and pushed it open.

Ashley smiled wryly as she followed him into the room. Interrogation rooms never changed. From New York to Los Angeles, always the same smell of authority, of beaten down, broken defiance.

Tony and Adam sat in front of the one way window, both wearing earpieces. Tony stared intently through the glass. "What's the temperature in there?"

Adam's fingers danced quickly across the keyboard. "30 degrees C."

"Kick it up another five degrees." He leaned back, smiling, when he saw Nathan and Ashley come into the observation room. "Tom just wants you here to observe, particularly you Ashley since you know her..."

Tom's voice crackled through the speakers. "How's she doing in there?"

Tony looked at Adam, but it was Ashley that answered. Staring at the woman she had deceived through the glass, at her pale, tear streaked face, at her hands, on the table in front of her, shaking in the handcuffs. Her eyes, too large in her face, darting around the room.

"She's terrified."

"Good."

Then they saw the door open and Tom Baker walked into Interrogation One.

xxXXXxx

She started speaking as soon as the door opened. Babbling. The words falling over themselves, spilling from her mouth.

"I'm sorry. Please. I don't have that much. Please, just don't..."

Tom ignored her, walking to the table, throwing the file face down on it. She flinched, staring at it, unable to look away as he started to pace around the room.

Trying to hide his own nerves.

He heard Tony's voice in his ear, calm and controlled. "If she's as frightened as Ashley reckons she is, I think you should play up your authority. Congratulations Tom, you're officially Bad Cop."

Tom paced back to the table, slamming his hands down. She stifled a scream, raising her frightened eyes to Tom's face.

"You're in a whole world of trouble, girl." He kept his voice soft, undercut with menace. "We found enough at your flat to put you away for a long time."

She shook her head. "Please. I cant...I cant go to jail. I need to talk to my father."

"Your father isn't here. I am. Talk to me." Tom pulled out the chair, the legs grating against the floor and sat down. "Tell me about Samuel Williams."

Clearly confused, Alyson opened and closed her mouth several times. "Samuel? What has Samuel got to do with this?"

Tom sprang back to his feet. Looming over the table. His face contorted with rage. She cowered back from him, knowing it was a pathetic effort, that if he wanted to hurt her, there was nothing she could do to stop him. "Don't play games with me Alyson. **TELL ME WHAT HE'S PLANNING!**"

She was crying now. "Planning? I don't know...I don't understand."

"You need to cool it Tom. Adam's telling me she's spiking all over the place. If you don't pull it back, we're going to lose her."

Breathing heavily, he sat down again. Taking a moment to collect his thoughts. Giving her a moment to pull herself together. "We know that you've been making transfers from your fathers company."

She bowed her head, letting her hair fall over her eyes. Trying to hide her shame.

"Do you know what he's been doing with that money Alyson? He's buying arms and selling them to terrorists." He sat back in his chair. "You're helping to fund terrorists."

xxXXXxxx

Mark opened the bag, sorting quickly thorough the contents. Carefully closing it. Opening and checking the other in the same way. He glanced over his shoulder and nodded at Jake.

Jake flipped his phone open and dialled quickly.

"Yes?"

"It's me. The drops been made."

"Is everything there?"

"Yes. We went through both packages. Everything's there, it's all clean." Jake glanced at Mark, already on his feet, the packages slung over his shoulders. "What do you want us to do?"

"Go to Sophia Gardens. I'll contact Oliver, arrange for him to meet you there. Don't make the transfer until you hear from me again."

"I thought you trusted this guy."

"This is business Jake. I don't trust anybody. Oh and Jake?"

"Yeah?"

"Just keep your eyes open. I don't think this guy will screw us over, but no point in taking chances."

"Okay boss." Jake glanced again at Mark, his hand creeping inside his jacket, tightening his fist around the butt of his gun. "No problem."

xxXXXxx

She shook her head, feeling herself drowning as he spoke. "You're lying. Samuel isn't a terrorist. He's not. He couldn't be. You're lying." He had to be.

"I'm not lying Alyson." Tom opened the file and pushed the photo over to her. "He's using these to blackmail you." He gave her a moment to stare at the photo, at her humiliation captured for any one to see. "You saw him last night, didn't you? Him or one of his friends?"

She nodded, her eyes fixed on his face as he stripped away her defences. She had thought that she had been so careful, thought that she had hidden her shame and her treachery better than she had.

"And you made another transfer today, didn't you?" He pushed a copy of the transactions over to her. "Help me Alyson. Help me catch him. Don't let him keep getting away with it." He reached out and put his hands over her handcuffed ones. "Don't let him keep doing this to you."

"I don't know anything." She was crying, sobbing now, tears falling unchecked down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, I don't know anything." She bowed her head, shoulders shaking.

"Tom, it doesn't look like she's lying." Tony's voice sounded frustrated, tired. "I don't know where else we can take this."

Nathan's voice came through his ear piece. "Tom, look she doesn't know anything about what he's really been doing. Tony's right you keep pushing her on that, she's gonna fall apart. But Samuel's her weak spot. Ashley reckons you should ask her about Samuel, rather than...." He let his voice trail away. "I think it's a good idea and Tony agrees."

Tom shrugged. It was as good a plan as they had. "Are you okay, Alyson? Would you like some water?"

She shook her head, wiping her face against her sleeve.

"I'm sorry Alyson, I didn't want to have to tell you that." He hesitated for a second, thinking how to phrase his question. "How long have you been together?"

"Six, seven months, maybe a little longer." She wiped her face again, her sleeve stained with tears and make up.

Tom smiled at her, managing to elicit a weak grin in response. "Where did you meet?"

Her smile lit up her face, shining into her eyes. Just for that moment, that instant, she looked happy. "A bar called The Crucible." She stared past Tom, lost in her memories. "You should have seen him. Walked in like he owned the place, came straight over to me."

xxXXXxx

Michelle rested her forehead against the palm of her hand. Rubbing at her eyes. The money trail was fast turning into a dead end, disappearing into a series of accounts, flushed through the banking system. Even money that had appeared in the account that evening was disappearing in the same way.

No way of tracing it. No way of finding Samuel through it.

"He's made a sale." She sat up straight in her chair, weariness and frustration lifting, at least for the moment. "Maybe one of his contacts...."

Her hands flew across the keyboard, a picture of Samuel Williams appearing on the screen. She looked through his contacts and associates, at the terrorists he had helped equip.

One name was flagged.

She opened up his details, leaning back in the chair as she read through it. Glancing quickly at the rest of the list. Only that one name was flagged, only that one name caught her attention

Too much of a coincidence.

She reached out and stabbed at the numbers on her desk phone.

"Field Ops, O'Brien."

"Chloe, its Michelle. Where's Tom?"

"He's not here Michelle."

She tried hard to jeep the exasperation out of her voice. "Where is he?"

"Interrogation One. He's talking to Alyson Rawlings." Chloe spoke quickly, her words running together, a sure sign of her nerves. "Do you want me to pull him out of the interrogation?"

Michelle shook her head, knowing it was a wasted gesture. "No, it's okay Chloe. I'll go down and se him. Thank you." She reached out and cut the connection. Walked out of her office and started down the stairs.

Automatically, she glanced over at the bullpen. Looking for Tony. One of the communications staff looked up at her, then hurriedly away. Michelle felt her cheeks colour and brushed her hair behind her ears. She still wasn't used to command.

But she was in command, and she had a job to do. The sooner CTU got used to her leadership, the better.

The sooner everyone in CTU got used to it, the better.

Holding her head up, she walked down the stairs and across the bullpen, towards Interrogation One. The door opened as she approached and Tom walked out, followed by Ashley, Nathan, Adam and Tony from the observation room.

"What did you get from her?" She could feel the excitement washing off them, sinking into her bones, soaking into everyone in CTU.

"She gave us a possible location for Samuel."

"Where?"

"A bar called The Crucible."

"The Crucible." She glanced at Tony and Adam. "That wasn't listed in Williams' original dossier."

"No it wasn't." Tony folded his arms across his chest. His eyes meeting hers briefly then sliding away. "He doesn't have any connection with The Crucible, it's just a bar he goes to." He shrugged. "Perfect cover, really."

Michelle nodded, biting briefly at her lip. "Okay. He made another sale tonight, so he may well head for somewhere he feels safe." She turned to Adam. "I need you to do something for me."

"Sure."

"I need you to work up a South African terrorist called Oliver Fredericks. Samuel's equipped him before. South African Police lost him a few days ago and he was tagged coming into San Diego two nights ago. Work up his contacts and associates, see if we can tie him to this and run any intel you get through me."

"Okay, Michelle." Adam glanced at Tony and walked off towards his workstation.

Tom lifted a phone and dialled quickly. "Chloe I need you down here now. Bring a couple of surveillance packs with you."

Chloe ran down the stairs from Field Ops, carrying a large metal case. Tom took the case off her and put it on the table, opening it. "We're going to need something to communicate audio and visual back to CTU."

She looked over his shoulder as he looked through the equipment. "That wont work, it wont pick up low frequencies, I sent several messages to try and get it replaced." Chloe elbowed his arm. "Move over, let me have a look."

Tom moved over, turning the case so that she could see into it.

"How many do you need?"

"At least two, three if possible." Chloe leaned over the case, selecting and rejecting equipment, grumbling under her breath.

"Tony, call up plans of The Crucible. Work with Nathan, make sure you have prepared escape routes and that you know where they are." Michelle turned to Ashley. "Can I have a word with you?"

"Sure." Ashley followed Michelle a short distance away. Glancing over her shoulder at the closed door of Interrogation One. She felt Michelle's eyes on her and forced herself to look at Michelle. "What's wrong?"

"Look, this is your first assignment, and you've done an excellent job." Her eyes flicked to Tom and Nathan and then back to Ashley. "If you want to go home, get some sleep, let Tom and Nathan handle this, then..."

"No." Ashley shook her head. "No. I'd like to see this out."

"Okay." Michelle started to walk away.

"Michelle..."

"Yeah?"

"What about Alyson?"

Michelle sighed. "I don't know yet. I haven't spoken to the DA yet. I'll decide what to do after I've spoken to her."

"She was being blackmailed, Michelle. It was an impossible situation for her." With an effort, Ashley brought her temper back under control. "She didn't have a choice."

Michelle had heard those arguments before. Hell she had used most of them. She looked at Tony, hunched over a workstation, working with Nathan. She sighed, rubbing at her forehead. "Okay, okay. I'll talk to her. See if we can work something out."

"Thanks Michelle."

"Ashley! You ready?" Tom handed her a necklace.

"Yeah." She slipped the necklace over her head, holding her hair out of the way. "What's this?"

"Camera and microphone." Tom passed another receiver to Nathan, who clipped it onto his jacket. "You get the layout?"

Tony nodded. "Just sending it to you now."

Michelle stopped Tom as he walked past her. "Lets keep this clean and simple, Tom. Keep me informed."

He grinned, his cheekbones sharpening. "I'll do my best." He hurried after Nathan and Ashley.

"Tony, contact LAPD, tell them to establish a soft perimeter, but to stay out of sight. Get Williams' photo over to them." She walked over to Chloe. "Have you the audio/visual feed set up yet?"

"I'm doing it now, Michelle."

"Adam..."

"I'm still working on it Michelle."

"Okay." She brushed strands of curly hair off her forehead, staring after Tom as the bullpen exploded into activity around her.

**In Chapter Seven....**

**Tom, Nathan and Ashley close in on Samuel Williams, and Natasha Grey has an interesting offer for Michelle Dessler....**


	8. Chapter Seven

Hey, this is probably going to be the last chapter for two or three weeks, cos I'm going on holidays and I wont have the chance to do any writing before I go. The next chapter should (hopefully) be up late September/early October.

This chapter is inspired by U2 Live in Dublin in 1987.

**Chapter Seven**

Tom pressed buttons on the car's onboard computer as Nathan pulled away from CTU, calling up the data that Tony had sent to him. "Take a look at this." He sensed Ashley leaning forward from the back seat, saw Nathan's eyes slide between the road and the display. "The bar is here, curved against the wall." He touched the screen. "Booths against the walls."

"How many floors?"

Tom keyed quickly through the plans. "Seems to be just the one." He checked again and nodded. "Yeah, just the one. It's a club, not a bar."

"Just the one floor?" Ashley rested her arm against the back of the passenger seat, toying with her necklace. "Should make him easier to find."

"Lets not get over confident." Tom twisted in his seat so he could see both Nathan and Ashley. "Remember, he's known here, has friends here. We don't. Both Michelle and I want this to go smoothly, so lets keep our wits about us."

"What about entrances and exits?"

"Just the main door, Nathan. And the fire escape, here." Tom touched the screen again, highlighting another location. "Make sure you know your ways out. We don't know how many men he's going to have with him."

Ashley nodded, her eyes scanning the blueprints. "What way are we going in?"

"I'm going to take this approach, look for him at the bar." Tom's finger traced his route just above the screen. "Nathan, you and Ashley take this side, and check out the booths. Stay close, watch each other's backs." He glanced away from them, back at the road. "How far out are we?"

"About five minutes."

Tom pulled his gun from his inside pocket and checked the mechanism. "Is everybody armed?" He tucked the gun away, adjusting his coat so that it covered the weapon.

Both Nathan and Ashley nodded. She shifted in the back seat, feeling her gun press into the small of her back. "What about security?"

"Nothing on the door. Just a couple of guys inside. Lots of civilians, though, so lets not turn this into a firefight." His smile was sudden, tight in the darkness of the car, catching them by surprise. "Nice, clean, simple."

Nathan pulled the car into the curb. They could see the battered sign of The Crucible, pulsing weakly from further on down the street. An LAPD cruiser was parked at the side of the road, facing down towards the bar, the lights and sirens off.

"So that's what passes for a soft perimeter these days."

"They were told to keep their distance." Tom closed the car door. He took a small pouch from his pocket and opened it. "Here. These are earpieces, set to channel one." He handed one each to Nathan and Ashley. He started to walk towards the bar. "Give me five minutes, then follow me in." He pulled his jacket closer to his mouth. "Testing, one, two, three. Can you hear me CTU?"

xxxXXXxxx

""...hear me CTU?"

Tom's voice came through the speakers. Echoing and weak, but still clearly audible.

"We hear you Tom." Tony looked across the bullpen. "What channel are they on Chloe?"

"Channel one."

"We got video yet?"

"Just working on it now." Chloe keyed another command into the program and looked expectantly at the screen. It clicked slowly to life, showing a grainy, black and white shot of the street outside The Crucible, the sign itself just visible in the shot. She cycled through the settings, the screen splitting into three. "Got them all Tony."

Tony pressed the microphone to his mouth. "We have visual as well Tom. LAPSs got some people there, but they're hanging back. It'll take them about 90 seconds to get in." He pulled the microphone away. "Lets stay alert people."

"LAPDs on channel two, Tony."

"Good." He paced across the bullpen. Listening to the steady sound of Tom's breathing. To Ashley and Nathan, talking together. Easing into their roles. To the sounds of the street and The Crucible washing over them.

Chloe watched the monitors, chewing nervously on her thumbnail.

xxxXXXxxx

Michelle looked up and signalled for Adam to enter when he knocked on her door, clutching a lap top under his arm.

"We got something on Fredericks, Michelle. He's in LA."

"Show me."

He set the lap top on her desk and flipped open the lid, turning it to face her. It showed a tall, lean man, dark haired, with a fine coating of stubble on his jaw. "These photos were taken today." Adam cycled through the photos, showing Fredericks, meeting with another man.

"Stop." Michelle leaned forward, accessing records on her own system. "That's the man Ashley identified from Williams' organisation. His lieutenant. Jake."

"You were right. Williams is supplying Fredericks again."

"Where did you get these from?"

"Mall security photos." Adam allowed a hint of pride to creep into his voice. "I ran what intel we had on Williams and his usual meeting points. I got lucky."

"Good job, Adam." She turned in her chair, calling up Fredericks' rap sheet. "I've been working up potential targets."

"You think he's going to hit something in LA?"

She nodded. "It's too risky for him to do anything else. He's not going to come all this way just to buy weapons he could easily get in South Africa."

Adam stared at her for a second. "Michelle..."

"Yeah?"

"I just wanted to thank you for coming to my sister's funeral. I know it must have been difficult for you, and I know things have been weird here, but...I'm glad it's you that took over CTU."

Michelle managed to smile. "Thanks Adam."

xxxXXXxxx

"I cant see a thing! Damnit Chloe, can you sharpen the image from Ashley's camera? Make it bigger? We cant see enough from that side of the bar."

"I'm doing my best Tony." Chloe changed the view, expanding one of the pictures out onto another screen. "There." She scanned it quickly. "Still no sign of him, though."

"Fuck." Tony walked over to the table and lifted the microphone. "Tom, any sign of him there?"

There was silence for a second, then Tom's voice, faint almost hidden beneath the noise of the bar. "No. Nothing here, Tony."

"Fuck." Tony put the microphone down, raking his hands through his hair. He stared at the desk in front of him, thinking, then spun quickly. "Chloe, rotate through what we're getting from the camera, 1 through 3. Enlarge and enhance, in 25 second patterns." He looked around the rest of the bullpen. "Keep your eyes open."

Chloe worked quickly, her hands dancing across the keyboards. Images from the bar flicked up on the screen. Then it cleared, slowly refreshing with another image. She watched with the rest of the bullpen, chewing on her fingernails.

"There! Go back to Nathan's camera!" Tony was on his feet, his finger pointing at the now darkened screen. "Quickly Chloe!"

The image was back on screen before he had finished talking. There, sitting in a corner booth, talking with two other men, was Samuel Williams.

Tony snatched up the microphone. "Samuel Williams is in the bar! I repeat Samuel Williams is in the bar!"

xxxXXXxxx

Tony's words echoed through their earpieces.

Ashley turned as much as she could, Nathan's arm casually around her shoulders. "Shit." She looked away as quickly as she could before he could meet her eyes.

"What's wrong?" She heard the words simultaneously, Nathan's concern echoed by Tony through her earpiece. "Ashley, what's wrong?"

She moved closer to Nathan, his arms tightening around her, speaking as clearly as she could. "The man with Williams, that's Jake, he's the one that...." She glanced up at Nathan. "Did he see me?"

She watched Nathan as he stared past her. His head moving in an almost imperceptible nod.

"I can handle this, Nathan."

"Ashley..."

"I can handle it." She risked another glance over her shoulder. Just in time to see Jake on his feet, his eyes fixed on her, walking towards her, sliding through the crowd at the centre of the bar. "I cant explain you to him as well."

Nathan stared at her for another second, nodded once. He jerked away from her, pushing his way through the crowd towards the bar.

xxxXXXxxx

"Nathan, what's going on there?"

"One of Williams' men recognised Ashley." Nathan sounded out of breath, distracted.

"Did he make her?"

"I don't think so. Think it's something to do with her cover."

"Tom, do you have clear line of sight to Ashley?" Tony forced himself to stop pacing.

"Yeah I can see her. I got a clear field in front of me. She's okay."

'Okay' meant 'Still Alive.' "It's your call, Tom, you've got field command. Do you want me to send in the cavalry?"

"No. She's good at this, she's done it before. Lets give it a minute; I don't want to risk bringing LAPD in unless we have to, just in case Williams manages to slip away."

"Okay, it's your call. But I don't like this."

xxxXXXxxx

"Sit down."

She felt Jakes hands on her shoulders. Pushing her into the booth. She stumbled into the seat, trying to turn quickly, get back onto her feet.

Jake sat down next to her. Grabbing her hair, pulling her off balance. She flinched, grabbing the edge of the table for support.

She started to reach for her gun.

She froze when she felt a gun press against the back of her head, the barrel cold against her skin.

"What did you think you were doing, girl?" Williams leaned forward, his eyes shinning dangerously in the dim light.

"Doing? What the fuck are you talking about?"

Williams nodded and she felt Jake's hand let go of her hair.

His fist drove into her side, driving the air from her body. She wrapped her arms around herself. Doubling over, resting her head against the dirty table. Gasping for breath. She could smell tobacco and booze, the harsh odours tearing at her throat.

Jake's hand in her hair dragged her upright, his gun still pressed against the back of her skull.

"What did you think you were doing?" Williams' hand shot out, catching her chin. Holding her with his eyes and his fingers. "Moving in on what's mine?"

Held by his grip, she tried to shake her head.

"You tell your boss, girl, that the next time he tries to cut in on my business." Samuel released her chin and backhanded her across the face. Jake's hand tightened in her hair, forcing her head to stay still. Forcing her to look at Williams. "I'll give his pretty little dealer to Jake and his friends." Jake laughed, tightening his grip. She could feel his fingers on the back of her skull, gripping the flesh through her hair. "And then I'll send her back to him, piece by piece. You hear me?"

She nodded as best she could with Jake's hand in her hair, and his gun at the back of her head. She could taste blood in her mouth.

Samuel glanced at Jake. "Get her out of here."

He dragged her to the edge of the booth by her hair, then pressed the gun into her side. "On your feet, girl." He moved closer to her. Using their bodies to shield the gun. "Out the door, now. Nice and slow." He pushed harder with the gun and she flinched. "Make a scene and..."

Conscious of the weight of his body against her, of his gun pushing against her, Ashley Webber walked out of the Crucible Bar.

xxxXXXxxx

"Jesus Christ! Tony, send LAPD in! Now!"

"They're on their way in already Tom."

"Nathan, go after Ashley."

"What about Samuel?" Nathan's voice was uneven, dropping in and out of range as he moved, jostled by the crowd.

"You worry about Jake. I'll worry about Samuel."

xxxXXXxxx

She put her hands out to catch herself as he shoved her against the wall. Pushing her face against the rough brickwork. She could feel him pressing himself against her, his hands on her body.

She couldn't feel the gun, though. It wasn't pressing into her side, like a thorn.

"Samuel didn't say I couldn't have a little fun with you first."

She could feel his stubble, rough against her neck. His hand, underneath her shirt, groping at her breast.

Ashley tensed and drove her elbow back into his stomach. He gasped in pain, and she twisted out of his grasp. Away from the wall. She threw another punch as she turned, hearing him grunt in pain as it connected solidly with his stomach.

He lunged at her. Knocking her from her feet. She struggled as he spun her over. Straddling her stomach, he slapped her hard across the face. "You little bitch." He slapped her again, then balled his fist and drove it into her stomach.

Again.

And again.

"Get your fucking hands up." Nathan's voice, loud and welcome in the quiet alleyway. "On your feet, hands behind your head, interlock your fingers." As he handcuffed Jake, he looked over his shoulder. "You okay, Ashley?"

Holding her ribs, she managed to nod.

xxxXXXxxx

"Adam, can you give us a moment?"

"Sure." Adam glanced quickly at Michelle and left the office, closing her door after him.

Michelle lifted the control and dimmed the windows of her office. She preferred it like this, anyway. Made it easier for her to concentrate, easier to think. "What's wrong Tony?"

"Tom has Samuel Williams in custody. He's bringing him into CTU now. There weren't any complications with that part of the operation"

"Excellent." She thought through what he had said and noticed the grim expression on his face. "**_That _**part of the mission? What happened?"

He sighed. "One of his men tried to sexually assault Ashley."

"Jesus! Is she okay?"

"A little bruised, a little shaken. But other than that, she's okay. Nathan got there in time." He smiled. "She put up a hell of a fight anyway."

"She shouldn't have been there." Michelle closed her eyes. "I told her to go home, let Tom and Nathan handle the take down."

"It's not your fault, Michelle. You offered her the way out, and she made her decision. She knew the risks." He walked around behind her desk and started to massage her neck and shoulders. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

She leaned back into his touch, feeling knotted muscles start to untangle. "Yeah, I'm just tired. It's been a long couple of days. And now this."

"Look Michelle, you cant take this on yourself, no matter how much you feel like you should. She's field ops, and it was Tom's call if he used her or not."

"I know, I just...I don't want to disappoint you."

"Sweetheart, you could never disappoint me."

The phone rang suddenly. All too soon, his hands were gone, muscles that had started to relax, tightening up as soon as his touch was gone. She smiled bitterly as she reached out to answer the phone.

xxxXXXxxx

The door of the Interrogation One opened suddenly, startling her from her thoughts. Two men, dressed in the white shirted uniforms of CTU security, walked into the room. One of them unlocked her handcuffs and helped her to stand.

"What's going on? Where are you taking me?"

"The Director wanted you moved somewhere more comfortable. If you'd just follow me, please, Ms Rawlings." He led her through CTU to another room, with comfortable chairs, mercifully cooler than the room she had been held in. "Make yourself comfortable, Ms Rawlings."

"When can I go?"

"That's the Director's decision." The guard started to close the door.

"Wait! Could I have a phone please? I need to make a phone call. I need to talk to my dad."

"I'll see what I can do."

She needed to talk to her father. She had so much to tell him.

So many sins to confess.

xxxXXXxxx

"...in custody, Michelle?"

"Yes. Tom's bringing him back to CTU now."

"Divisions' going to be very happy. Your office is doing a fantastic job, Michelle and you can be sure that I'll be telling the Director that."

There was more to come. Michelle knew it. She could hear it in Natasha's voice, the way she hesitated as she spoke. The woman was building to something.

"Michelle, I have...I think what Hammond's doing to Tony and CTU LA is wrong. And if you help me, I'll stop it. I'll take Tony off probation, let you all do your jobs without interference, if you help me replace Brad Hammond as Head of CTU."

_**And that's it for a while. I'll see you all in two or three weeks. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.**_


	9. Chapter Eight

Hey everybody, I'm back!!!

Thank you to everybody that read and reviewed the last chapter. Gabe, I know a little bit about Ashley and Nathan's past, but I haven't worked out all the details yet. If you want to email me, I'll send you what I have.

Anyway, without further ado, here's Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

Samuel Williams sat in the back of the CTU van, his hands cuffed, attached to the floor in front of him. He smiled at Tom Baker, sitting opposite him, turning his head, so he could squint through his black eye, so that Tom could see the injuries Williams had suffered during his arrest.

Tom flexed his hands, ignoring the brief flash of pain in his knuckles. He'd had to give Williams a couple of blows before he'd finally stayed down.

He'd almost lost him in the confusion as LAPD had poured into The Crucible Bar. Williams had almost made it to the fire exit, before Tom had caught up with him, dragging him back into the bar by the collar of his jacket.

The back door of the van opened suddenly. Tom looked around as Nathan shoved Jake inside. He pointed at the bench. "Sit down."

Bruised and battered around the face, Jake sat down, Meekly holding his cuffed wrists out in front of him. Nathan worked quickly, attaching the cuffs to the floor.

Tom allowed himself a brief smile. They'd actually managed to pull the operation off. "Where's...?"

"Taking another way back." Nathan tested Jake's restraints. "Garcia is giving them a ride."

Tom nodded and slapped his hand against the window. "Lets go." The engine rumbled slowly to life and the van pulled away, the flashing lights and sirens of the LAPD cruisers fading into the night.

"So what are you going to do now?" Samuel looked at Nathan and Tom. "Now that you've got me, how long do you think you can hold me?" He focused on Tom, spreading his hands as best he could, smiling smugly.

Tom didn't smile. "Shut up." He didn't look at the prisoner. Dismissing him. Another trick he'd learned from Jack Bauer.

Samuel held his smile for as long as he could. "Hey Jake, you have any fun with that little dealer?"

"What? Oh her..." Jake nodded, a slow smile breaking across his bruised face. "Oh shit, yeah man. She was hot. I had to knock her into shape, but once I taught her what way she had to take it."

"Why don't you two assholes shut up and start working out what story you're going to tell me to get some time off your sentences, rather than trying to jerk our chains?"

Samuel raised an eyebrow. "Was she better than Alyson?"

Jake forced a laugh, the sound unpleasant and hollow in the interior of the van. "The way she struggled, man, got me just right. Cant wait to get my hands on her again."

Nathan moved quickly, too quickly for Tom to stop him. He sat next to Jake, speaking quietly, softly, into his ear, his fingers digging into the man's throat, driving his head back.

"You better hope she's okay, Jake. Otherwise you and I are going to be having a conversation, and I promise you, I will hurt you."

"Nathan."

Nathan let go of Jake's throat, leaving him gasping for breath. He walked back to his seat, sharing a grim smile with Tom before he sat down.

Tom didn't respond, his attention still focused on Samuel.

xxxXXXxxx

It took Michelle a moment to realise what Natasha had said. What Natasha had offered. What Natasha had proposed.

Tony off probation. Back in his old job. Everything back to normal, back the way it was.

And the only price would be working against one of their own. CTU divided against itself by ambition and greed.

"And if I take over from Hammond, Michelle, Division's going to need somebody to replace me." Natasha's voice had gone cold and calculating. "I can make sure that you take that next step up the ladder. This could be a very good move for you."

"All I want to do is my job, Natasha. I don't want to get caught in the middle of a pissing contest between you and Hammond." She knew Hammond hated her, hated Tony. Knew he was only looking for an excuse to fire them both. "I wont let this office be used as a political football by you and Brad."

'I wont be the fall guy if you lose Natasha. I wont let Hammond punish Tony for my mistake. Again.

"I don't want to use you as a football, Michelle." Natasha's voice had warmed again, Michelle's reply oddly reassuring her that she had made the right choice in backing Michelle Dessler for CTU LA Director, in backing Michelle's lack of ambition. "All I know is that you're on a tightrope, that Brad's looking over your shoulder at every decision you make."

Michelle stayed silent. There was nothing she could say. They both knew it was true.

"You're doing an excellent job, Michelle, and your office is doing an excellent job. I know what you've been through these past nine months. What you and Tony have been through."

"I cant get involved in this Natasha." 'I wont get involved in this.'

"I don't need you to get involved. All I need is your support." Natasha hesitated for a second, giving Michelle the chance to speak. "At least promise me you'll think about it. You owe me that much at least."

"Bye Natasha."

Michelle hung up. She had watched Carrie, Mason and Chapelle all try to play politics to further their careers. Had watched them try to play politics and loose.

Why wouldn't they just let her get on with her job?

Her phone rang again and she reached out to answer it. "Dessler."

"Michelle, Tom's back at CTU. He's brought Samuel Williams with him."

"I'll be right down."

xxxXXXxxx

"Where do you want them sir?" The white shirted security guard waited patiently while Tom re-cuffed Samuel's hands behind his back.

"Put him in interrogation one."

"Right away sir."

Nathan unchained Jake and dragged him to his feet. Manoeuvred him to the rear door of the van. "Is Ashley back yet?"

"Yes sir."

"She okay?"

"I think so. She's talking with the Director now."

"Damn." Nathan grinned at Jake's sudden look of fear and pushed him over to the another security guard. "Put him in two." He waited until the guards had taken the prisoners away. "So which one do we go after first?"

"Probably Williams. No point in wasting time with small fry."

xxxXXXxxx

"Ashley." Michelle walked quickly down the stairs and across the bullpen to her field agent. "Tony told me what happened. Are you okay?"

Ashley pressed her hand against her ribs. "I'm a little battered and bruised. But I think I'm okay." She forced a smile, painfully small against the bruises on her face. "Thank God Nathan arrived in time." She shrugged. "I had to keep my cover."

Michelle looked past her, seeing Tom and Nathan entering the building. "I want you checked out by CTU Medical." Her whole demeanour and voice changed, moving from concerned to businesslike. "Then go home and get some sleep."

"Michelle..."

"That's an order, Ashley." She heard CTU Medical take Ashley into one of the treatment rooms as she approached the other agents. "Good job, Tom. Did we get everybody?"

"We lost one of his friends in the confusion. I'll get Chloe to check with LAPD see if one of their perimeter units picked him up."

"Good. Which one do you want to start with?"

"Williams. I put him in one."

"Okay." She walked over to Eileen's desk. "Get Interrogation One ready."

"Right away, ma'am."

xxxXXXxxx

She heard the door open through a haze of exhaustion and guilt. She kept staring at the table, unable to shake the weight of her treachery from her shoulders.

"Ms Rawlings?"

She managed to look around, her eyes dead. It was the same security guard that had brought her into the room. He had a bottle of water and a tall glass in his hands. "I brought you something to drink."

"Oh thank you." She managed to smile at him, taking them from him, her gaze lingering on the glass. "Can I make my phone call now?"

He smiled back at her. "The Director approved it so..." He fished in his pocket and handed her the phone. "Is there anything else, Ms Rawlings? I'll be right outside if you need anything."

"Thank you." She waited until he closed the door before she started dialling.

It rang twice.

"George Rawlings."

The sound of his voice almost broke her.

"Hello Daddy."

"Hello sweetie." She drew a trembling breath. "Alyson sweetie, what's wrong?"

"I'm in trouble, Daddy." She wiped away a tear. "I'm in so much trouble. Everything's gone wrong." She ran her fingers down the glass. "I'm so sorry."

"Alyson, it'll be okay. Just tell me where you are, and I'll have Mike there within the hour."

"I'm so sorry, Daddy. I've done so many things to hurt you, so many things to let you down. And Gary! Jesus Christ, what did I do to him?"

"Alyson..."

"I've made a mess of everything. Daddy, and I just wanted to tell you that I was sorry. I'm so sorry, Daddy, tell Gary I'm sorry, so sorry."

"Alyson..."

"Goodbye Daddy." She hung up before he talked to her for too long. Before he...

She needed to do this while she still had her nerve.

xxxXXXxxx

"Where is Oliver Fredericks?" Tom snapped his question as he paced around the room.

"Who?" Williams was still smiling the same smug smile he had in the CTU van, the same smug smile that made Tom want to knock his teeth down his throat.

Michelle pulled a picture from her folder, pushing it over the table to him. "The man you sold weapons to tonight."

Williams shook his head. "Never heard of him."

"We know you sold weapons Samuel, both to him and to Jonathan Modine." They both noticed his sudden flinch. "We know this and we have the evidence to put you away for a very long time."

"We know you were blackmailing Alyson Rawlings." Tom slammed the photo down on the table, his palm smarting with the impact. "So you see, you piece of shit, we got enough to do you for arms trading and blackmail. The only way you're going to see daylight anytime soon is to give us Fredericks."

"With an offer like that, agents, how can I refuse?" His smile twisted further, mocking them. "No deal."

"This is a one time offer, Samuel. You force us to find Fredericks ourselves and this deal disappears."

Tom leaned over and spoke softly into Samuel's ear. "Except we'll be sure and tell him that it was you that gave him up." He grinned at Michelle. "Cant see Oliver liking that too much, can you?"

Michelle shook her head, grinning back at him. "No."

Samuel opened his mouth to reply...

...klaxons sounded suddenly through CTU.

xxxXXXxxx

"Any pain or tenderness here?"

Ashley flinched as the medics gloved hands probed at her ribs. "A little."

"What about here?"

"No."

"Can you put your hands behind your head and take a deep breath for me?" A cold stethoscope was placed next to her skin. "And again." Ashley took a deep breath, holding it until her ribs ached. "Okay. You have quite heavy bruising on your ribs, the start of a black eye, and some minor bruising to your face. Other than that, physically, you're fine."

"Good." Ashley started to stand.

"Wait. Its standard procedure to do a quick psyche checkup in cases like this." The medic lifted another clipboard. "Shouldn't take too long."

Ashley started to complain, then stopped and smiled when she saw Nathan walk into the treatment room. "My hero."

"Hey Ashley, how are you?"

"A few bruises." She grimaced at another sudden twinge. "Other than that, I'm fi..."

Klaxons sounded through CTU

"Oh shit." Nathan turned and ran through the door, Ashley following close behind, ignoring the burning protests from her ribs and the medic's warning shouts.

xxxXXXxxx

The alarm sounded throughout CTU, the flashing red lights giving the whole building an evil surreal glow. White shirted security guards, heavily armed, rushed to secure the exits.

Nathan and Ashley arrived in the bullpen as Michelle and Tom emerged from the Interrogation Room. "What's going on Michelle?"

"I don't know." Michelle turned to one of the analysts, half standing at his desk, staring around the room. "Run an alarm protocol, find out where that's coming from."

"Yes ma'am." He sat down, typing rapidly on his keyboard. "It's a fire alarm, triggered in the waiting room."

Tom frowned. "Nobody's supposed to be in there."

"I moved Alyson Rawlings there when we brought Williams into custody." They walked quickly through CTU towards the waiting room, the corridors still dimly lit by flashing red lights. The guard outside the room snapped to attention when he saw Michelle.

She gestured at the door. "Get this open."

Ashley glanced at the monitor, and her jaw dropped. "Michelle..."

Michelle glanced at it. "Get this open now!"

The guard stared at the monitor screen for an instant, ashen faced. He fumbled with his key card, eventually running it down the reader. Staring at it dumbly as the light stayed red.

Impatiently, Nathan snatched the card out of his hands and ran it through the reader. He managed to push it open a couple of inches before it hit a barrier. He took a couple of steps back and hit the door hard with his shoulder.

There was a sound of breaking wood and the door flew open.

Nathan hurried into the room, followed by Tom, knocking bits of broken chair out of the way.

Something broke underneath his feet, and he looked down to see shards of broken glass.

Alyson Rawlings slumped against the table. Her eyes closed, looking like she was sleeping, a slight, almost happy smile on her face.

Her fingers outstretched, pressed against the alarm.

Blood pooled on the floor of the room, the shard of glass she'd used to cut her wrists glinting dully, mockingly in the intermittent light.


	10. Chapter Nine

Hey, I'm into the last bit of this story. Again, I'm not exactly sure how much is left, but the end is in sight.

**Chapter Nine**

"Oh shit.'

Nathan grabbed at the wounds on her wrists, putting pressure on them. Ignoring the fine spray of blood. Tom moved her carefully, bending over her, his ear pressed against her heart. He shook his head and started CPR.

Michelle ran back out into the corridor. "I need medical in here now!" She glanced back over her shoulder, listening to Tom's increasingly desperate count

Ashley picked up the jagged piece of glass, holding it carefully. "Who gave her this?" Turning it slowly, watching the patterns the light drew in her blood.

The lights and sirens flashed, mirroring Tom's motions.

"I did." The security guard, pale faced, licked his dry lips. "She was thirsty."

"And you didn't watch the monitors." Ashley advanced on him, holding the bloodstained glass in front of her. She watched him swallow nervously, fighting against the urge to back away from her. "You just sat outside on your fat ass and you did nothing."

"Ashley." Michelle raised her voice, stepping between the two. "Walk away from this."

Tom's count filled the sudden silence in the room.

CTU Medical arrived, two men laden down with equipment and bags. Shoving their way through to get to their patient, taking over from Nathan and Tom. Nathan rubbed idly at his jeans as he stood, watching them work, his trousers stiff with Alyson's blood.

"Michelle..."

"Ashley. Back off." Michelle closed her eyes briefly. "Go and get that damn alarm turned off." The noise, the lights, were cutting through her skull.

Cutting through her like a sliver of glass.

She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. She turned to the guard. "Fill in an incident report. Get it countersigned by your watch commander, and have it on my desk within the hour."

"Yes ma'am." He walked off, head bowed.

The paramedics kept working on her, struggling to revive her. Her eyes closed, her hair hanging loose around her face, matted with her own blood, a slight smile on her face, it looked like she was sleeping.

"She's beautiful."

Tom flinched when he realised he had spoken aloud. Neither Nathan nor Michelle seemed to have noticed.

Ashley arrived back at the door of the room. "I spoke to Tony, he's shutting down the alarm sequence now." She sounded out of breath.

"Good."

Even from the door, Ashley could see the jagged wounds Alyson had carved into her wrists.

The alarm went suddenly silent, the room lit by one lamp. She looked even paler without the intermittent flash of red to add some colour to her skin.

The paramedic looked up and met Michelle's eyes.

He shook his head. The room terrifyingly, bitterly silent, broken only by the sound of the crash machine.

The paramedic reached out and switched it off.

xxxXXXxxx

Tony typed quickly as Ashley hurried away from his work station, running through the corridors. It had been on the tip of his tongue to ask her what was wrong, what had happened, had even opened his mouth to ask, but she had left before he had gotten the chance.

"Tony can you come over here and take a look at this?"

"Sure." He levered himself out of his chair and walked over to Adam's workstation. "What have you got?"

"I'm not sure. It might be a possible target for Fredericks." Adam brought up a picture of man on his screen. "His name is William Cronje. He's the new Chief Prosecutor in Cape Town."

"Fredericks home turf. What's he doing in the US?"

"He's here to take possession of a prisoner. Kevin van der Melde."

He had always been able to sense her. It had become one of their favourite games. She would try and sneak up on him, and he would let her creep closer and closer, pretending that he didn't know she was there. Then he would turn and she would pretend to be scared, laughing all the time.

It had been so long since he had heard her laugh.

He looked around as she drew closer to Adam's workstation, so tired and dejected. He ached to put his arms around her, tell her that everything would be okay.

"What's wrong?"

"Alyson Rawlings is dead."

"What? How? When?"

"She committed suicide. Cut her wrists with a shard of broken glass." Michelle leaned against Adam's desk, rubbing at her forehead. "What are you working on? She was so tried, so drained. Empty.

She wanted Tony to hold her while she fell asleep. Wanted him to help drive away the images of every death she had been responsible for. She could almost feel him kiss her head through her curly hair, the same way he did every night when she fell asleep on the couch. She almost smiled.

Adam's voice dragged her back to reality.

"We've been working on potential targets."

"You get anything?"

"I think so."

He started to explain, but Michelle cut him off. "Send it to my screen." She forced herself upright, staggering a little in her weariness. "Good job, both of you. Thank you."

xxxXXXxxx

"Back so soon? I thought the way you rushed out of here, I was never going to see you again."

Nathan slammed the door of Interrogation One behind him. "Shut up Samuel."

Tom walked over to the table and sat down. "I've just seen Alyson, Samuel." He almost smiled as Nathan started to pace around the room, every circuit bringing him a little closer to Samuel.

"How is the little whore?"

Still the same smug smile.

Tom stared at him for a second, that mocking smile burning through his head. In a flash he remembered the sad smile, frozen forever on Alyson's face. Remembered how she'd cried in this room. How he'd broken her in this room.

He'd broken her. He'd driven her to it.

Him and this bastard.

The punch caught Samuel by surprise. Catching him just below his eye. Knocking him and his chair backwards, the chair swinging crazily on its hind legs. Nathan caught him by the shoulders, pushing him back upright. Holding him steady for Tom's next punch.

Nathan grinned. "Not that much fun when it happens to you, is it shithead?"

Samuel shook his head, spitting out a tooth that Tom had knocked loose.

"Where is Oliver Fredericks?" Tom stood up, looming over the prisoner, his fists clenched. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Alyson, saw the wounds she had carved into her own flesh. Wounds that he had driven her to.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Tom punched him again. Trying to drive the image away. Trying to beat away his own guilt.

Samuel started to laugh. Laughed even as Tom punched him again.

"Where is he?"

"Go to hell!"

Nathan glanced up at Tom, jerking his head towards the door. Breathing heavily, Tom followed after him, the sound of Samuel's laughter chasing him across the room.

How many times had Alyson heard that laughter, seen that smile? Was it any wonder...

He shook his head. He couldn't afford to think like that. He still had a job to do. "What do you think Nathan?"

"I think we can beat on him all day and all night and he's still not going to give us Fredericks."

Tom glanced over his shoulder at Samuel, still laughing in the middle of the room, bruised and bloodied. "I think you're right." He wanted to nail this bastard, wanted to nail him for everything.

"We still got him though." Nathan gripped Tom's shoulder. "We still got him for trafficking and for blackmailing her. It's not like the piece of shit's just going to walk out of here."

"I know, but we got nothing on Fredericks." Tom sighed, rubbing at his bruised knuckles. "Okay. You start the paper work on Williams for the other charges."

"What about you?"

A sudden thought, a sudden fear, raced through Nathan's mind. He had seen Tom's face as he punched Samuel. He couldn't leave him alone with Samuel. Enough things had been fucked up at CTU without adding that to the list.

Tom sighed, the anger and hatred slipping from him like blood from a cut. "I'm going to go tell Michelle what we've got."

xxxXXXxxx

Michelle paged through the hastily written report. This was the last thing she needed, a breach in security, just when there was a chance that she could Hammond off their backs. "So you weren't paying attention to the monitors?"

The security guard didn't look at her, staring at the floor of her office. "No ma'am"

She threw the report on her desk. "Why not?"

"Pardon me, ma'am?"

"Look at me." She waited until he met her eyes. "Why weren't you watching the monitor? Were you called away?"

"No ma'am...I didn't think...she wasn't under arrest...I didn't...I didn't....I'm sorry ma'am."

"I know you are." Michelle took a mouthful of coffee, trying to postpone things for as long as she could. "It doesn't change the fact that she died while she was supposed to be under our protection."

"No ma'am."

She sighed heavily. "You're suspended. One month, half pay." She made a note in his file. "Effective immediately. Now get out of my sight."

"Yes ma'am. Sorry ma'am."

He walked out of her office and down the stairs towards the bullpen. Ashley walked past him on the stairs, and she turned to glare at him as she passed. He turned his body, careful not to touch her, careful not to look at her, and hurried out of CTU.

Ashley knocked on Michelle's door.

"Come."

She walked in, closing the door behind her. She walked over to Michelle's desk, folding her hands behind her back.

Barely two days in the job, and she had already fucked things up.

"What is it, Ashley?"

"I just came to apologise, Michelle. For earlier. I was out of line."

Michelle looked up from her computer. "Yes you were. This is my department, Ashley, and I will handle the discipline. Not you."

"I just didn't want to see that fucking idiot..."

"Ashley. I've already dealt with him."

"What happened to him?"

"That's none of your concern." Michelle turned back to her computer. "I want you to go home, get some sleep and come back in the morning."

"But Nathan and Tom are still interrogating Samuel Williams!"

"I don't care Ashley. Go home and get some sleep. We'll call you if we need you. But I want you fresh in the morning."

"Okay." Feeling like a dismissed child, she drifted back towards the door of the office. Wondering how she'd managed to fuck things up so quickly.

"Ashley. Look, you've done fantastic job so far, we wouldn't have gotten Williams without you. But I might need you again, and I don't want you so tired that you make a stupid mistake and put yourself or the operation in danger."

"Thanks Michelle." Ashley smiled and left the Directors office.

Maybe she hadn't fucked things up.

xxxXXXxxx

"I just wanted to thank you for everything you've done in this matter."

"I'm delighted to help. Let me just say that I think that his actions and conduct have been completely inexcusable. How is their morale?"

"I've spoken to them. All they want is the freedom to do their jobs. His actions have driven both of them to consider their futures."

"Are these people good?"

"Some of our best sir."

"We cannot allow these people to be driven away by his actions. I think it is time that I got involved in this directly."

"If you think that's wise, sir." She tried to hide the enthusiasm in her voice.

"I think it's time he realised that he cannot run CTU like his own private organisation. The president made his decision he has to accept it. Just like everybody else."

"Thank you sir." Natasha Grey smiled and hung up the phone.


	11. Chapter Ten

Hey, sorry I'm a bit late in posting this chapter. I've had a serious dose of the post holiday blues this week.

If you ever get the chance, go see Sarah McLachan live. She's absolutely brilliant.

Thank you again to everybody that reviewed Chapter 9.

**Chapter Ten**

"Have you been here all night?"

"Yeah." Adam rubbed his eyes, trying to focus on the screen in front of him. "Just been working through this threat intel." He lifted his cup, putting it down when he realised, halfway to his mouth, that it was empty. Easier to stay, easier to work through the night, than deal with his parents unspoken accusations.

Nathan sat down next to him, passing him a fresh cup of coffee. "Its going to take them a while to get over what happened, Adam."

Adam shook his head. "No Nathan. They're never going to get over what happened, and they're never going to stop blaming me for it." He remembered her funeral. His parents, their family, her friends, all united in their grief, clinging to each other, comforting each other. Leaving him alone in his grief.

Only Michelle had looked for him. Only Michelle, struggling with her own grief, her own guilt, had looked for him, hold told him how sorry she was. Only Michelle had been there for him.

She deserved his best. Deserved everything he could give her.

Nathan saw Adam's emotions play across his face and changed the subject before the silence became uncomfortable. "Did you get anything from the intel you were working off?"

"There's a criminal prosecutor from Cape Town in LA to take possession of a prisoner. Kevin van der Melde was caught trying to smuggle diamonds into LAX. Customs did a deal with the South African government."

"Does van der Melde have any connections to Fredericks?"

Adam nodded. "And apparently, Cronje has been trying to take Fredericks down for a while. He's got a few associates of his in prison, but no one has rolled on him yet."

"Two birds with one stone." Nathan whistled through his teeth. "You have been busy. Did you get any sleep?"

"No. Do you think he's going after them?"

"I think it's as good a lead as we have. Does Michelle know yet?"

"No." Adam stifled a yawn. "I wanted to be sure before I told her. She's been under enough pressure, we all are. We cant afford another mistake." He couldn't afford another mistake, didn't think he could cope with another mistake. "Do you think...."

"Yeah, I think he's going to go after them. Then he's going to disappear, bury himself deep. This could be our only chance to get him."

"So what are we going to do?" He felt better, now that he knew Nathan at least agreed with him, tiredness forgotten, burned away by adrenalin and the feeling of a job well done

Nathan nodded towards Michelle's still dark office. He was surprised she wasn't in yet. He'd lost count of the number of evenings she had stayed late, the number of mornings she'd come in early. Thought of how tired she'd looked recently.

He sighed, knowing he was dumping more pressure onto her shoulders. "That's for her to decide."

xxxXXXxxx

She remembered how this had felt last time. The emptiness, the helplessness, the anger, the memories, tapered with sadness, the thoughts stained with blood, like ruined photographs.

It felt worse this time.

"Its not my fault." She closed her eyes, flinching as images of Alyson stung her eyes. "I had to do my job. Its not my fault."

It had been a long time since she had had a drink but she found herself craving one.

She looked at herself in the mirror. "It's not my fault, it's not my fault." She closed her eyes, wondering if a drink would help her sleep.

Ashley wandered over to her couch, covering herself with a throw. She picked up the TV remote, starting to flick through the channels. Hoping to find something she could use to bore herself to sleep. Mindless noise, mindless images to distract her from the memories threatening to overwhelm her.

At least this time she didn't have to face....

Her phone rang, startling her from the half sleep she had fallen into. She took a second to locate it, stared at it for another second. Then snatched it from the table in front of her.

"Webber."

"Ashley, its Michelle. We've had a break in the Fredericks case and I need you to come in."

Ashley ran her hand through her blond hair. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

xxxXXXxxx

This was ridiculous.

"I did what had to be done."

Tom wondered if Jack had ever felt like this, had ever felt responsible for the consequences of his actions.

He laughed bitterly. Of course he didn't. Jack Bauer just did his job, to hell with the guilt and the consequences, to hell with the people that got hurt. He didn't care as long as he got the job done, didn't care who he hurt. Strangers, friends, colleagues, none of that mattered to Jack Bauer.

What had been done to Alyson Rawlings, what she had done to herself, would not have cost Jack even a second thought.

He wasn't Jack.

"I did my job, Alyson." He closed his eyes, trying to explain his actions to her ghost. "I had to find Williams. You were all I had to use. I had to go rough on you. I had to break you. You understand, don't you?"

He saw her face again, her eyes closed, that sad beautiful smile on her face, her smile almost distracting attention from the horrific wounds on her wrists.

"I did my job."

This was so fucking ridiculous.

His phone rang, brutally irreverent to his guilt, to her memory.

He didn't look at the number as he picked it up. Who else would be calling him?

"Baker."

"We need you here Tom." Nathan's voice was quick and enthusiastic. "Adam turned something up last night. Michelle wants everybody in."

"What did he find?"

"A target. He thinks he knows who Fredericks' target is"

"I'll be right in Nathan." He hung up the phone and lifted his gun, slipping it into his holster. Staring at himself one last time in the mirror, making sure he had himself under control.

Making sure that he could do his job.

xxxXXXxxx

His group knew what they had to do. They knew the consequences if they didn't.

Kevin van der Melde knew too much about them, about their organisation, about Oliver Fredericks. Knew too much about them and was eager to cut as much time from his sentence as he possibly could.

William Cronje wanted Oliver Fredericks. Wanted him on trial, just to prove to the rest of the world that South Africa would not tolerate terrorists. To that end, he was even prepared to do a deal with Kevin van der Melde.

Fredericks knew what had to be done.

Cronje and van der Melde could not be allowed to thrash out a deal.

Both of them had to die. To kill just one left too many loose ends.

Both of them had to die.

Two birds with one stone.

xxxXXXxxx

Adam highlighted a picture on the display. "Kevin van der Melde. Smuggled diamonds from South Africa for Oliver Fredericks. He was caught coming through LAX with several million in uncut diamonds."

"Why does Fredericks want him dead?" Tom shuffled through van der Melde's file, reading his record.

"This man." Adam changed the image. "William Cronje. South African prosecutor. He offered van der Melde years off his sentence in exchange for information on Fredericks."

"So we have two targets. Cronje and the prisoner."

Michelle leaned forward. "Okay people, we've done a good job so far, but this is the big play. Take this guy down, and we've taken a major international terrorist down." 'Something I can use to get Hammond off our backs without having to play Natasha's game.'

"What's the plan?"

"Customs are making the exchange with Cronje in the Regan Hotel. Nathan, I want you and Ashley there." Michelle grinned suddenly, her teeth glinting in the dimly lit room. "Hope you've been nice to the waiting staff recently."

"What about back up?"

"We're going to have a delta team maintaining a perimeter. They'll be within reach. But we need to invite this guy in, make him think we don't know about him. Cronje is travelling with an armed bodyguard and he knows CTU will be involved. But you're going to be the guys on the ground. Tony's going to be co-ordinating the operation from here."

Tom shook his head. "I don't like this Michelle."

"We don't have a choice, Tom. We've got two targets, and we don't have that many resources or that much time. We have to stop Fredericks today."

"Okay. What do you want me to do?"

"Put a team together. You're going to be guarding van der Melde."

"What?" Adam was incredulous. "No, Michelle, we don't need to do that. We can just take can der Melde out of play...."

Michelle shook her head. "We cant do that, Adam. We need to draw Fredericks out into theopen. Van der Melde is the only lead we..." Her voice died abruptly in her throat. Remembering when Jack had said those words to her.

And what price those words had had.

She cleared her throat, forcing strength into her voice. "Any questions." She looked around the table. "This is the last play, people. Lets do this right."

Her phone rang as they were leaving. She waited until Nathan closed the door after him before she answered.

"CTU, Dessler."

"I'd like to speak to the Director." A deep male voice.

"I'm the Director, sir. How can I help you?"

"My name is George Rawlings. I understand you have my daughter in custody."

xxxXXXxxx

He was starting to feel like a hunted man.

Conversations died in corridors when he approached. People looked away from him, refusing to meet his eyes. People he had known, had counted on as allies, if not friends, avoiding him, refusing to talk to him.

He had become a liability, vulnerable.

Vulnerable and no one wanted to get caught in his death throes.

Brad Hammond gritted his teeth as he walked through the corridors towards his office. Natasha fucking Grey. He almost missed Chapelle. The man had been intolerable, a real pain in the ass. But he was an easier opponent, easier than Grey was proving to be. He could feel her dagger already buried in his back.

He threw the door of his office open and walked towards his private room. Not even glancing at Mary. He just needed some time alone. Some time by himself to find a way out of her trap, to plot his response.

"Sir."

He stopped with his hand on the handle of his private office. "What is it Mary?"

"Michael Jarode is waiting inside for you." His secretary was pale faced. "I didn't know what else to do."

"That's okay Mary. Can you get us some coffee please? Thank you." He waited until Mary left the office. Taking the time to prepare himself, compose himself.

Michael Jarode.

Natasha had finally played her ace card.

xxxXXXxxx

"I want to speak to my daughter, Director Dessler."

"I'm afraid that's not possible, Mr Rawlings."

"I know the Constitution, Director. My daughter has rights. I demand access to her. I want her to have access to a lawyer."

"Mr Rawlings, I'm afraid I have some bad news for you."

"What?" The sudden cold fear in his voice almost broke her heart.

"I'm afraid your daughter is dead, Mr Rawlings." Michelle braced herself for the impact of the man's grief.

"She cant be...she cant be dead." All the strength seemed to drain from Rawlings' voice, drained like blood from a cut. He sounded old and tired. "I spoke to her last night, she wouldn't tell me where she was. It took me until now to find her. How can she be dead?"

"She killed herself, Mr Rawlings"

"I was under the impression that my daughter was in custody, Director."

"She was..."

"Then how is it possible that she was able to kill herself?"

"She broke a glass, used it to cut her wrists." Michelle hesitated then continued. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

"What was she being held for?"

Michelle thought about telling him everything. That his daughter was a drug addict, that she had been whoring herself to feed her habit. That she had been stealing from her beloved father. That her tormentor had been using that money to fund terrorists.

She thought of the grief in Rawlings' voice and wondered what the job had made her that she would even think of adding to the man's grief.

"She was providing information that was helping us to track down a terrorist."

xxxXXXxxxx

"Is everybody ready? Is everything in place?"

"Yes." Adam checked the screens. "Tom and his team have picked up van der Melde. They're heading back to LA now."

"Good. Chloe, what about Nathan and Ashley?"

Chloe pressed the headset against her ear. "They're in place. Cronje's there. There's no sign of Fredericks yet."

"What about our guys?"

She pressed a button, changing the channel. "Delta Five is holding the perimeter. What do we do now, Tony?"

"The worst part. We wait."

xxxXXXxxx

He hated waiting for anything.

It played on his nerves. Pulling them taut, stretching them until they almost broke. He folded his hands in his lap, trying to conceal how much his hands were shaking.

He hated waiting.

He tried to think about something, anything else. Home. His wife. The case. Tried to read the paper. Anything to distract himself from this horrible waiting.

He sat there. Waiting.

Waiting for Oliver Fredericks to kill him.


	12. Chapter Eleven

I know, I know.

It's taken me FAR too long to get this chapter finished. I'm really sorry and I don't have any good reason. Thanks to Kita for giving me a much needed kick up the ass. The only good thing is that it's given me a bit of focus and made me sit down and actually write.

Anyway, with apologies again for the delay, here's chapter 11.

By the way is anybody a Dark Tower fan? Anybody finished the last book yet?

**Chapter Eleven**

"Mr Jarode."

"Lets not waste each others time, Brad. We both know why we're here."

"Yes we do." Brad walked around his desk. "You want to talk about the Almeida situation." He pointed at the another seat as he sat down. "Please sit down, Senator."

Michael Jarode sat down. "I think this situation has gone on long enough, Brad."

"Tony Almeida breached national security..."

Jarode cut him off in mid flow. "I know what he did Brad. I've read the file."

Brad wondered if he had read the actual file, or just Natasha Grey's edited version. "I must be honest, Mr Jarode. I don't know if we can trust the man again. If it had been my decision, he would have spent a long time in prison." 'And I would have gotten rid of his bitch of a wife. Except she found herself allies very quickly. Powerful allies.'

"How long are you going to punish this man, Brad?" Jarode sat back, studying Hammond's face. "She's his wife, for God's sake. What would you have done?"

"My job."

"You would have sacrificed your wife to torture and death at the hands of a man like Stephen Saunders.?" Jarode shook his head, keeping his gaze trained on Brad. "I don't believe you. And, if you are telling me the truth, then I'm not sure if I could continue to support a man like that in this job. We're trying to keep this country safe for families, not reward men who treat their wives like chess pieces."

Brad knew when he was beaten. There was no way out of this trap. All that remained to be decided was the terms of the surrender treaty.

"What do you want, Senator?"

"I want Tony Almeida off probation. I want him and CTU LA free to do their jobs without any interference from you."

"If I agree to that, do I have your continued support?"

"What about Almeida's position within CTU?"

Brad shook his head. "He stays at his current rank. He helped a terrorist escape. He may have had noble intentions but that fact remains. I want Michelle Dessler to remain in command." 'At least until I can find a way to replace her.'

Jarode thought for a second, then smiled and nodded. "Agreed." He stuck his hand out. "I don't think Ms Dessler deserves punished for your mistake, especially when you're correcting it."

Brad gripped his hand, forcing a smile on his face.

Wondering how Natasha Grey would react when she found out about this. Having Almeida back at CTU was a small price to pay for getting her off his back.

Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad day after all.

xxxXXXxxx

Something really fucking weird was going on.

Kevin van der Melde looked around the inside of the transit van, at the men guarding him. He had been expecting LAPD, maybe some customs officials. Not these guys. These guys were good, well trained, well armed.

And they were expecting trouble.

And that meant Oliver Fredericks. Van der Melde smiled grimly. At least Fredericks hadn't had him killed in prison. He shifted on the bench, the handcuffs rattling against the chair. One of the guards glared at him, moving his fire arm into a more comfortable position, almost aiming at the prisoner.

Van der Melde froze, holding his smile. He raised his hands, cowering behind them until the guard turned away.

His smile grew broader then. They were defiantly expecting trouble.

Maybe he could turn this to his advantage.

Baker signalled for Jeffers to move away from the prisoner. He wiped sweat from his forehead and reached for the bottle of water. He knew it wasn't that warm, even inside the van, the early morning sun still tempered by the nights chill.

It was tension.

Lying across the van, pressing down on them. They could all feel it, the expectation hanging in the air. He swallowed again, trying to moisten his throat.

He lifted the radio. "Delta Base, this is Delta One."

"Go ahead Delta One."

Even Chloe's voice was thicker than normal. Choked up.

"All quiet here, Delta Base. We're on the Eastern Highway, heading towards the city." He stopped, then clicked the transmitter on again. "Any word from the Regan yet?"

xxxXXXxxx

"All quiet there as well, Tom." Chloe glanced over her shoulder at Tony, angrily pacing around the bull pen, stopping every few paces to glance up at the Director's office. "All we're doing is waiting."

"Let me speak to Tony."

"Tony." He turned at the sound of his name, walking quickly, nervously over to her. "Tom wants to speak to you."

He took the radio off her. "Check through the photographs we have of Fredericks and match them against people in the hotel." She stared at him for a second. "Do it now Chloe." He waited until she had pushed her chair to another station, where Adam was working. "What is it Tom?"

"Just wanted to know what the situation was at the Regan Hotel, and I didn't particularly want to drag it word by word out of Chloe."

Tony bit back on a snort of laughter. "Nathan and Ashley are in position. Cronje and his bodyguard are there as well, but Fredericks hasn't showed up as yet."

"We sure about that?"

Tony shrugged, knowing it was a wasted gesture. "According to his recent photos, anyway. We're monitoring the video feed and I got Adam and Chloe checking the footage to see if he slipped through."

"Good idea."

"What about your end?"

"All quiet. I got a blocker and a rear guard. So far so good, but it wont be too long until we hit the city."

"What about the prisoner?"

"Quiet as a mouse." Tony could almost imagine Tom's pinched grin. "I'm not sure what he's more frightened off. Oliver Fredericks getting his hands on him, or time in South African prison."

xxxXXXxxx

Kevin van der Melde shivered as he heard Tom's words.

Difficult choice. He wondered for the hundredth time if he had made the right one.

xxxXXXxxx

"Would you like some more coffee sir?" Ashley paused next to William Cronje's table, a steaming pot of coffee in her hand. She hoped he would make his mind up quickly. She could do with some coffee herself.

"Yes. Thank you."

Cronje leaned back in his chair as the waitress poured the coffee. Staring at her. Wondering if she was one of the agents this CTU had sent to arrest Oliver Fredericks. He doubted it, personally. She was too young, too pretty.

Ashley glanced quickly around the room as she poured the coffee, the strong odour filling her nostrils. She could feel Cronje's eyes on her, calculating, wondering. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Wondering if the man could hold things together long enough to pull this mission off. She could see how scared he was. How pale his face was, how his hands shook when he reached for his coffee.

She straightened, starting to walk away from the table when she felt a hand grab her wrist.

"I would like some coffee, too, miss." Cronje's bodyguard, his eyes fixed hungrily on her.

She thought about pouring the contents of the coffee pot over his head. Then she thought about her cover and swallowed her pride. Leaning across the table to pour his coffee, knowing that he could see down her shirt, the only place he was interested in looking, conscious of his eyes, of his smile.

Ashley walked away from the table as quickly as she could, swearing under her breath.

"Problems?" Nathan moved close to her, close enough to speak into her ear. He covered the motion by wiping the bar with a damp rag. Somehow, he managed to look both smart and uncomfortable in his Regan Hotel uniform.

"Yes. No. Maybe." Ashley set her tray on the bar, looking back over her shoulder. "I don't know how much longer Cronje can hold together." She shook her head. "I hope he doesn't blow this for us."

Nathan glanced at Cronje's table. A couple of mouthfuls of coffee seemed to have settled him down. At least his hand had stopped shaking.

"I think he'll be okay, Ashley." He refilled her coffee pot. "You better keep moving, see if Fredericks is here yet. The Delta Team didn't pick anything up, but he could have slipped through."

"Okay." She lifted the pot, her mouth watering from the smell of fresh coffee. She turned from the bar, preparing to start another circuit of the room.

"Ashley. Be careful."

"I will." She walked over to another table, a fake smile plastered on her lips, her eyes darting around the room.

Nathan went back to polishing the bar, tapping his transmitter twice.

xxxXXXxxx

"There's still nothing from the Regan." Michelle looked up as the door to her office knocked, in the middle of Tony's report. She signalled and a tall man, white haired, broad shouldered with a neatly trimmed white beard, came into her office, walking across it to stand in front of her desk.

Nothing could disguise the burning grief in his eyes, the sense of loss bowing his shoulders.

"Keep me informed." Michelle put the phone down and hastily stood. "Mr Rawlings, I'm Director Michelle Dessler." She extended her hand. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

George Rawlings took her hand in a grip that seemed as dead as his daughter. "Thank you, Director Dessler." She pointed at the seat on the other side of her desk and he sank into it gratefully. "I'm sorry, Director, I haven't slept since I heard that Aly...that my daughter had been arrested."

"Would you like some coffee, sir?"

"No, thank you." He ran his hands across his burning eyes. "I'd like to take my daughter home, if I could."

She could hear the plea in his voice. At least, this time, she could grant a broken man some peace, some comfort.

"Of course, Mr Rawlings." She stood up, walking towards the door. "We've done our best to tidy her up. She's in one of our medical rooms."

"Thank you Director." He held the door open for her, managing to smile as she nodded her thanks. "I'm sure you're busy, Director. You don't have to come and hold my hand."

She couldn't find any words to answer him and led him silently across the bullpen. She recognised the expression in his eyes from the funerals she had attended after the virus outbreak.

She knew that George Rawlings had had all the hope, all the spirit ripped out of him. Ripped out of him by a shard of broken glass.

Michelle hesitated outside the door of Medical One, her key card gripped in her hand. "She's in here, Mr Rawlings." She ran the card down the reader and pushed the door open. "Do you want me to come in with you? Or would you prefer to be alone?"

George Rawlings stared into the room for an instant, his face wet with the tears he had been controlling since the previous night. His jaw worked, but no sound came out.

"Michelle." Adam appeared at the corner of the corridor. Out of breath, leaning against the wall. "We need you on the floor."

"I'll be there in a minute, Adam."

"Go and do your job, Director." George Rawlings took a step into Medical One. "Go and do your job and I will do mine." He walked alone, into the room.

Michelle watched him for a second longer. Wishing there was something she could say, something she could do to ease the terrible burden of George Rawlings' grief.

Then she turned and walked back towards the bullpen.

xxxXXXxxx

How long would they have to keep this up?

Nathan lifted another breakfast from his tray, sliding it in front of a one of a couple of middle aged men, who totally ignored him despite the smile he had plastered across his face. He made a mental note to leave a better tip next time he was in a restaurant.

He tucked the tray under his arm, hesitated for another second, then turned....

....and froze.

With an effort, he forced himself to keep walking, limbs working automatically. He could feel the mans gaze boring into the back of his neck and he had to fight against the urge to look around, just to confirm what he already knew.

Ashley walked across the floor, carrying a tray full of drinks. Nathan caught her eye, jerking his head back towards the door, keeping the movement as small as possible. She followed his gaze, her own eyes widening.

Nathan walked on towards the bar. Setting the tray down on the bar. Pretending to reach for another pot of coffee, another bottle of water, anything to hide the motion. He nudged his transmitter to life. He spoke quietly, irrationally pathologically afraid that someone in the Hotel would hear him.

"Oliver Fredericks is in the Regan Hotel."

xxxXXXxxx

"How far out are we?" Tom leaned forward from the back of the van, his hand gripping the back of the driver's seat, fingers curling into the padding. Suddenly he missed Nathan, wanted the younger man's reassuring presence.

The driver glanced at the computerised map. "Maybe 30, 45 minutes from the outskirts. We should start hitting heavy traffic maybe 10, 15 minutes after that."

"If they're gonna try something, it's gonna happen soon." Tom glanced out the windows, peering as best he could through the tinted glass. "Keep your eyes..."

The rest of his words were swallowed as the van in front of them exploded.


	13. Chapter Twelve

Hey, thanks again to everyone that reviewed the last chapter. Hope you're all still enjoying the story.

On the CD player this week has been Neal Casal Basement Dreams, Drive-By Truckers Decoration Day and John Mayer Any Given Thursday

**Chapter Twelve**

"Shit."

The driver stood hard on the brakes, wrenching the wheel, dragging the van away from the burning wreckage. They heard a series of smaller sounds, almost drowned out by the sound of flames.

The van skidded, violently, tearing up great swathes of loose dirt as it left the highway.

He fought to control the skid, eventually forcing the van to a stop, smoke spewing from the tyres, mingling with flames from the burning van. He tried not to think about how many of his friends and colleagues had just died.

He slumped back in his seat, trying to ease the tension out of his arms, breathing heavily. "Is everybody okay?"

The radio crackled into life. "Delta One, this is Delta Three. What the hell just happened?" The remaining van pulled to a stop beside them. "Is everybody there okay?"

"Delta Three, Delta Two just exploded." Tom looked around, looking into the rear of the van, where the rest of his team were picking themselves up, examining themselves for injuries. "Think everybody's okay, just cuts and bruises. Did you see what happened?"

There was silence for a few seconds.

"Potter thinks he saw some sort of residual flash just before Delta Two exploded." There was another brief hesitation. "Do you think any of our guys made it out?"

"No. They wouldn't have had a chance. We're going to try and get moving again. We're sitting ducks out here."

The driver turned the key and the van rumbled unsteadily forward. In the calm, now controlled silence, they could hear the flap of shredded rubber.

"That's a negative Delta One. Your tyres are blown as well. Must have been shrapnel from the explosion."

The driver punched the dashboard in frustration then killed the engine. Tom shook his head. "More likely it was part of a trap."

"What do you want to do?"

Tom thought quickly. "We'll have to do a switch. Fredericks has to think that van der Melde is on his way to Los Angeles. Pull around behind us, and we'll open both sets of doors, use them as cover."

"Copy that."

The other van spun into motion, turning quickly until the rear doors were facing each other.

Slowly, carefully, they opened the rear doors. Swinging them out until they formed a shield. A member of Delta Three jumped down to the ground, glass and gravel grumbling beneath his heavy boots.

A precision shot slammed into the van's bullet proof window.

He ducked back inside the van, his retreat covered by other members of the team. Trying to keep their attackers pinned down with automatic gunfire, adding gunpowder and gunfire to the smells and the sounds around them.

Tom lifted the radio again, trying to find an angle for a shot. "Delta Base, this is Delta One." He ducked as a bullet slammed into the frame of the door. "We're under attack."

xxxXXXxxx

"....we're under attack."

The sound of gunfire echoed through the comms channel. They could hear Tom's voice shouting commands, could hear the Delta Teams returning fire.

"...is in the Regan Hotel."

Nathan's voice, usually so calm and collected, almost rushed now in his sudden panic and fear.

Sudden panic and fear that seemed to infect CTU. They stared at screens, clutching desperately at microphones. Listening helplessly as their friends and colleagues fought for their lives.

"Adam." Michelle tried to make her voice as strong as she could, as calm and confident as she could. "Contact the reserve teams and LAPD. Inform them of the situation and despatch them to Tom's location. Make sure they have air cover. Tell Tom to dig in, hold his position and that reinforcements are on their way."

"Okay."

"Chloe, access the satellites. That area's hilly, find out what's attacking Tom, and send their co-ordinates to Tom and to the reserve teams."

"What about the Regan?"

"We should take him down now." Tony rubbed briefly at his face, taking his hand away when she glared at him. She'd always hated him doing that.

"Tell Nathan and Ashley to close up around Fredericks, but they're to hold their position until there's a clear opportunity. I wont risk civilian casualties." 'Not again.' "Tell the Delta Team to close up and be ready to go in hard. I don't want him slipping away."

Tony nodded and leaned towards the microphone. His voice, contrasting with Adam's, already speaking, with Chloe's, relaying information to the Delta Teams in the field. The sudden brief, fear filled silence gone, replaced by belief and hope.

Michelle closed her eyes, trying to ignore her headache, throbbing like a strobe light. Hoping and praying that they could pull this off.

xxxXXXxxx

Nathan listened as Tony relayed Michelle's orders. He glanced over his shoulder, looking for Ashley. Trying to reassure himself of Frederick's location.

For an instant, he couldn't find him.

There. Sitting casually at a table, his friend staring at Cronje, while Fredericks' eyes darted around the room, picking out bodyguards and hotel security. His eyes flicked across the room towards Nathan, focusing on him.

Nathan forced himself to act naturally. Ignoring the hard glance still lingering on him. He lifted a tray, and walked off, refusing to look over his shoulder.

Ashley saw him coming towards her and started to weave through the increasingly crowded room. Ignoring calls for her attention. She reached Nathan's side, turning away from the rest of the room, hiding their conversation.

Nathan spoke quickly, quietly. "New orders from Michelle. She wants us to move up on Fredericks."

"And then?"

"She wants us to hold back until we get a clear opportunity. She wants to minimize civilian casualties."

Ashley nodded, pretending to wipe her tray. "I'll take the left hand side, you take the right. We should be able to keep him in sight that way."

"Okay." Nathan stopped her as she started to walk off. "If you get a clear shot, a clear opportunity, don't hestitate."

Ashley's grin was sudden and vicious. "I wont."

xxxXXXxxx

His bodyguard stiffened suddenly. His hand creeping inside his jacket. His eyes focusing at a table across the room.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Unconsciously, Cronje moved his chair. Trying to find some cover from whatever had attracted his bodyguard's attention. Still staring across the room, still smiling at the pretty waitress that had poured his coffee.

His bodyguard didn't look away. Cronje could see his jacket hanging open, the pistol hanging in an under shoulder holster, within easy reach. He didn't seem to blink.

"Oliver Fredericks. He's here."

William Cronje felt his blood run cold.

xxxXXXxxx

Tom knelt in front of van der Melde, unlocking his handcuffs. Dragging him away from the side of the van, already riddled with bullet holes. Another shot tore through the weakened side, as they staggered away.

"Keep behind me." Tom moved to the back door of the van, conscious of van der Melde behind him, conscious of bullets flying around the two vans, stranded, since accurate shots had taken out the tyres on Delta Three.

Where the hell were his reinforcements?

Another shot slammed into the wall and he fought against flinching. All he could smell was gunpowder and smoke, although he thought he could pick blood out of the mix, if he concentrated hard enough.

A member of Delta Three jumped down from the other van, preparing to cover their movement. Aiming his gun between the gaps of the bullet ruined doors.

A single shot took him in the centre of the forehead.

He fell dead, his weapon tumbling from his arms.

Tom jumped down, firing blindly. His finger tight against the trigger, the gun burning hot in his grip. Screaming wordlessly for the death of another young man under his command.

Kevin van der Melde's eyes fell on the discarded weapon like a starving man.

xxxXXXxxx

He sat next to her body. Oblivious to the rest of the room, to the rest of CTU, the rest of the city.

Oblivious to everything except the extent of his failure.

"Why did you do this Alyson?"

He could feel his anger start to build, grow, overwhelming the sting of his loss. How could she do this?

"How could you do this to me, to your mother? And what about Gary? Did you think how this would effect him, how this would hurt him? Hadn't you hurt him enough already?"

His anger disappeared as quickly as it came. Leaving him old and cold with only the bitter sting of his own loss left. He pictured his daughter, his beautiful daughter at her graduation, at her prom. Imagined her in her wedding dress, radiant in white, walking down the aisle on his arm.

"All I ever wanted was for you to be happy."

George Rawlings took one of his daughter's cold dead hands in his own, trying to ignore the terrible wounds on her wrist. He felt his tears start to fall again, and this time, he didn't try to fight them.

"Why couldn't you just be happy?"

xxxXXXxxx

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck, his smile draining from his face like blood from a cut. His face frozen in a hideous parody of a grin.

He jerked his head away. Hoping briefly, ludicrously that if he couldn't see Fredericks, then Fredericks couldn't see him. Trying to hide behind his bodyguard.

Reality intruded just a moment later.

He couldn't stop himself looking back.

Where the hell was CTU? They were supposed to be here, supposed to intercept Fredericks, supposed to keep him safe. Supposed to stop this happening.

Oliver Fredericks sat at his table. Calmly drinking his coffee, talking with his friend. Seemingly oblivious to Cronje's panic.

Except that Cronje knew that Fredericks was here to kill him.

He lifted his coffee cup, hoping that his hand didn't shake, hoping that he didn't spill it all over himself. He didn't want to die, covered in spilled coffee.

Where the hell was CTU?

xxxXXXxxx

"Tom's digging in. He's pinned down, but they cant make any headway towards his position. He wants to know where the hell his reinforcements are." Tony leaned over the screen, highlighting the situation and the CTU positions for Michelle.

"Adam puts the reinforcements 10 or 15 minutes out." She chewed briefly on her lip, thinking through the situation, thinking through their options. "There's nothing else we can do to help them, is there?"

He shook his head, knowing how she must be feeling. "All we can do is play the cards as they land. Tom knows what he's doing."

"Okay." She ran her hand through her curly hair, pulling it back from her forehead. "What about the Regan?"

"Ashley and Nathan are in position and have the situation under control. They're just waiting for a clear shot." He looked down at the screen. "Or your order, Director."

Michelle squeezed her eyes shut, trying to buy a moment for herself, for them. She didn't want this, she'd never wanted this. Every decision she'd ever made had been the wrong one.

Except one.

She touched her wedding ring and opened her eyes.

"Tell Nathan and Ashley they have a green light."

xxxXXXxxx

Another bullet, almost spend went past Tom's cheek. He ducked instinctively, then returned fire, firing until his clip ran dry. He ejected it from the mechanism, and reached for another one. Still crouching, the protective doors of the vans riddled with bullets, almost useless.

Jeffers crouched next to him. Sweat tearing streaks down his pale face. He cradled his weapon, looking for a target. :Where the fuck is Delta Four?"

"CTU puts them about ten minutes from our location." Tom tried to smile. "We just got to hold for another ten minutes or so."

Jeffers opened his mouth to reply, and a single shot tore through the back of his skull. He stared at Tom, an amazed expression on his face. Then he toppled slowly forward.

Tom looked over his shoulder, at Kevin van der Melde, aiming a gun at him. Another member of the Delta Team lay dead at his feet.

"Drop your weapon, and put your hands behind your head. Then get on your knees."


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Chapter 13**

"You have a green light to take down Fredericks."

Nathan nodded uselessly, his eyes automatically roaming the room, looking for Fredericks. Forcing himself to look past Fredericks, to flick his gaze over him, to not give the man any reason to suspect him

Not now, not this close to the end.

He saw Ashley, still maintaining her cover, still serving food and coffee to the unsuspecting patrons of the Hotel. She glanced up, her eyes mirroring the trip his had just taken. Nathan waited until she looked at him, then jerked his head towards Fredericks and nodded. Keeping the movement small and precise.

He started to walk towards Fredericks' table. Slipping his hands inside the Regan Hotel waistcoat he was wearing. Feeling the reassuring weight, pressure of his pistol, holstered against his side.

Ashley moved in from the other side of the room. Slipping through the knots of people and tables.

"Excuse me, miss?"

She ignored the speaker. Her eyes focused on Fredericks' table, her pistol pressing against the small of her back, covered by her Regan Hotel uniform.

Almost there, now. So close. She could almost smell his aftershave, almost taste the remnants of their coffee.

His friend, his accomplice looked up, looked at her, his smile almost faltering, just for an instant. Then it returned, brighter for its brief absence, as he leaned back in his chair, leering at the pretty waitress.

She managed to smile, knowing only that she had to. Her skin crawled as she imagined his hands on her, touching her.

Nathan saw Fredericks' friend, accomplice look up, focus on Ashley. Saw him stare at her, his mouth opening.

"Shit."

He tried to pick his pace up, move as quick as he could through the room. Dimly he heard people call out, trying to attract his attention. He ignored them, all of his attention focused on Ashley and the impending confrontation.

If he had made her, if he even suspected she was with CTU...

He saw Ashley smile back at the man, and then Fredericks drew him back into a conversation. Nathan released the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

He saw Fredericks move, heard Ashley shout from across the room.

"Nathan! He's got a gun!"

The Regan Hotel dissolved into chaos.

xxxXXXxxx

Time slowed down.

He heard van der Meldes footsteps, crunching against spent cartridges and broken glass on the deserted road. Heard groans of pain from injured members of the Delta Team.

His arms, starting to ache.

He felt the gun barrel, still warm from the shot that had killed Jeffers press into the back of his skull.

"I don't want to die. Not here. Not like this."

For a second, Tom wondered if he had spoken his thoughts aloud.

"I don't want to spend the rest of my life in a South African jail. If they get me back there, I'm a dead man."

Time slowed again. Trying not to look for the attackers he knew were coming to finish the job. Trying not to look for his reinforcements (they were coming, he knew they were coming. Michelle had promised him and she kept her promises) Just trying to keep van der Melde talking, trying to buy himself some time. "Tell me what you do want."

"I want to disappear. Out of Fredericks' reach. Out of Cronje's reach."

Conscious of the gun against the back of his head, Tom nodded carefully. "I think I can arrange that."

xxxXXXxxx

"Delta Base, we're approximately five minutes from Delta One."

"Copy that."

The van bounced across an uneven part of the highway, picking up speed as it hurtled towards the scene. Inside, the Delta Team checked weapons and equipment. None of them needed to be told that their friends were fighting and dying.

"Delta Four, we have movement west of Delta One's location. They're moving towards Delta One."

"Shit." The Delta Leader clicked off his radio. "Hurry up. Tom's running out of time." He drummed his fingers briefly on the dashboard and then clicked the radio on again. "ASU One, this is Delta Four."

"Go ahead Delta Four."

"CTU reports movement west of Delta One's location. I need you to scout the area. Give Tom some cover, buy us sometime to get there."

"Copy that Delta Four."

The helicopter swept away from the vehicles, hurrying towards the scene, swiftly leaving them behind, flying low across the terrain, small clouds of dust kicked up by its rotating blades.

He looked over his shoulder at the men, dressed in black, the CTU logo emblazoned on their uniforms.

"Get ready."

He was answered by the sound of weapons snapping into firing positions.

In the distance, they heard the sound of small arms fire.

He glanced at the driver and opened his mouth to bark another order.

The van accelerated before he could say a word, the sound of gunfire growing steadily louder.

xxxXXXxxx

"He's agreed to everything?"

"Yes. Everything that you wanted."

Natasha couldn't quite believe what Michael Jarode was telling her. Couldn't believe that Brad had given up so easily, so quickly. Couldn't believe that all her plans, all her carefully laid plans, all her hopes and ambitions were disappearing like smoke on the morning air.

"Natasha?"

She became aware that she had been quiet for far too long, and found her voice from some where. "What did you have to give? To get him to take Almeida off probation."

"Nothing." She could almost imagine Jarode's shrug. "Just continue to support him."

His words hit her hard. This was why Hammonds had given in, had backed off Almeida. It was an easy exchange to make, easing up to safeguard his own future.

And Natasha had been turned into a sacrificial pawn.

"Thank you sir. I'm sure that will be a great relief to Michelle Dessler."

She hung up and sank back behind her desk. Thinking through the wreckage of her plans. Wondering if there was any thing she could do to salvage it.

"Ms Grey." Her secretary's voice snapped through her concentration.

"What is it?"

"Brad Hammond is here to see you."

Already? She hadn't expected him to be here so soon. She smiled bitterly. Obviously there were quite a few things she hadn't expected him to do. "Send him in, please." She scrubbed her hands through her hair, hoping that she didn't look too defeated.

She still had cards to play. Still had allies, still had favours to call in.

Hammond wouldn't find it so easy to get rid of her.

He walked in without knocking and she sprang to her feet, like a child caught misbehaving. Hastily schooling her features into her usual calm professional expression.

His sudden vicious victorious grin told her that he had seen more than she had wanted him to.

Her expression hardened into a frown.

She wasn't going anywhere.

xxxXXXxxx

The bodyguard sprang to his feet, his chair landing with a crash on the floor behind him. Tugging his pistol free from its holster.

Pushing Cronje onto the floor behind him, stepping across in front of Cronje.

Ignoring the chaos and the shouts breaking out, erupting inside the Regan Hotel. Aiming at Fredericks. Following his movements smoothly with the barrel of the gun.

Shots rang out in the Regan Hotel.

And then the screaming started.

xxxXXXxxx

Tom heard footsteps drawing closer.

"I can help. I can help you disappear."

"How." Van der Melde didn't seem to be in any hurry, the gun pressed into the back of Tom's skull.

Tom risked another look.

Closer.

"All we want is Fredericks. I don't give a fuck about Cronje or exchanging you. Just help us get Fredericks and I promise you, you can slide off the face of the earth as far as CTU is concerned."

He hoped Michelle would help him keep that promise.

The boots drew closer.

He played his last card. Hoping it was an ace. "You don't want a man like Fredericks on your trail."

The boots drew closer.

Almost at the bullet ridden vans. Tom squeezed his eyes shut. Waiting for, praying for an answer. Waiting for, dreading the click that would tell him it was the wrong one.

"Okay."

It seemed to take an eternity for van der Melde to take the gun away, an eternity that brought Fredericks men closer and closer.

Van der Melde moved, attracting the attention of the approaching figures.

And then the shooting started.

xxxXXXxxx

"Damnit!"

Cronje's bodyguard stepped forward, trying to shield his charge, his gun aimed at Fredericks table.

Straight into Nathan's line of fire.

He ducked around, trying to find an angel, an angle to get Fredericks with a clear shot.

He saw the bodyguard fire, at the same time as Fredericks and his man fired. Saw William Cronje, safe under the table.

Heard three (no four) sharp cracks, terrifyingly loud in the now silent hotel.

He saw the bodyguard stagger backwards. Hit in the chest and shoulder, blood soaking into his previously pristine shirt. Saw both the bodyguard and the other man at Fredericks' table fall.

Heard the screaming start at the sight of blood oozing out onto the floor.

Fredericks fired again, firing again and again at the table where Cronje was hiding.

Nathan ducked for cover as bullets ricochet around the Regan Hotel.

xxxXXXxxx

"Shots fired in the Regan Hotel! I repeat shots fired in the Regan Hotel!"

Michelle turned quickly to Tony. "Send Delta Five in. Tell them..."

He hesitated. "Tell them what?"

"Tell them if they have a clear shot on Fredericks, they're to take it."


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Hey, thanks to everybody that has read and reviewed so far. This is the last chapter of The Shadowlands, so I hope you enjoy the conclusion.

**Chapter 14**

Tom forced himself to move as the shots ricochet around him. Rolling away as bullets slammed into the ground where he had knelt. Fredericks' men swept into the defended area, seeking cover from the CTU reinforcements.

He finished moving next to the other van, the body of a Delta team member face down in the road in front of him, blood soaking through his shirt, despite the bullet proof vest.

Tom rolled him over, trying not to look at the young man's sightless eyes, wide open, staring at the bright sun. He read the name on the vest. Thompson. Promising himself he would pay a proper respect to the dead man when this was all over. Pay a proper respect to all the casualties when all this was over.

He tugged Thompson's side arm free, spinning on his knees, raising the pistol…

…finding himself dead in the sights of one of Fredericks' men.

Tom could see his finger tightening on the trigger. He almost relaxed, almost lowered the pistol, almost braced himself for the sudden searing impact, for the sickening smell of burnt flesh as the bullet tore into him.

The CTU helicopter swept over the battlefield, momentarily blinding everyone with the dust kicked up by its rotating blades. The gunner lined up the man threatening Tom and coolly shot him through the chest.

The man fell dead, his legs kicking out as he toppled to the ground.

Tom didn't question his rescue. Moving again, firing on instinct, forcing Fredericks' men to keep their distance, to keep their heads down. The few surviving members of his Delta Teams did the same thing, allowing Delta Four to advance closer to the beleaguered position.

The helicopter hovered above them, the gunner training his sights on any of Fredericks' men who dared to move from their hard won cover.

A stray shot caught van der Melde in the stomach.

Tom saw him respond in slow motion. Pressing his hand against the wound, then staring at it comically, not quite believing that his hand was damp with his own blood. Then he slid slowly to the ground, next to Jeffers' body.

"Cover me." Tom darted from his hiding place, the rate of fire increasing around him. He felt bullets, spent cartridges kick into the dirt around his feet.

He slipped to the ground next to van der Melde, making sure he knocked the man's rifle away. His eyes were already glassy, sweat beading on his forehead, his skin pale, his body shaking slightly.

Tom snatched his radio from the pocket on his vest. "Delta Four, Delta Four. Do you copy?"

"This is Delta Four, go ahead."

"Man down. I need urgent medical assistance. Repeat man down." He threw the radio away from him and pressed his hand against the wound on van der Melde's chest. "You better not die on me you bastard."

xxxXXXxxx

Fredericks fired blindly. His shots shatteringly loud even against the screaming in the Regan Hotel.

Silence.

Just for a second.

Ashley risked a look, angling herself so she could see, yet keeping most of her body in cover. Trying to find Nathan, trying to find a way to manoeuvre Fredericks into a…

She jerked her head back as he fired at her. The bullet slamming into the wall, she was hiding behind, showering her with dust.

And again. Silence fell.

She heard a muffled scream and risked another look. She saw a pretty waitress dragged to her feet by her dark hair. Saw Fredericks hold his gun against the side of her forehead. Saw her eyes go wide in fear, saw her shake as she tried not to cry.

"I'm walking out of here!"

Fredericks turned quickly, moving so he could see the whole room, keeping waitress' almost limp body between him and as much of the room as he could. Too quickly to let them get a shot off.

"I see any police, or if anybody tries to stop me, I'll blow her fucking head off!"

He started to walk towards the door, almost carrying the waitress. She was sobbing openly now, clinging to his arm to stop herself falling.

Ashley saw Nathan inch his way forward. Keeping low, trying to keep Fredericks attention from focusing on him. Moving slowly, quietly.

She had to give him time to get into position.

She tensed, preparing to move from cover, to try and draw his fire.

He took another step, trying to ignore the girls sobbing. His eyes darting around the room. He knew he should hurry, knew that the cops and yet, he wanted to finish off the job.

Movement to the side caught his eye.

Cronje.

Crawling like the worm he was. Crawling from beneath the wreckage of the table where he had hidden.

Fredericks didn't hesitate, firing twice into the back of his skull. The waitress screamed again as she felt the gun barrel, hot from the execution pressed against her cheek.

"Now we go."

xxxXXXxxx

"Control, this is Delta Five. We are in position."

"Copy that, Delta Five. On my mark."

"Control, this is Delta Four. We have secured the site. Requesting urgent medical assistance."

Michelle walked across the bullpen. Hating this part, the uselessness, the hopelessness. "How many?"

"How many what?" Tony met her eyes. Wanting to hear her say the words.

Her eyes flashed angrily. "How many did we loose?"

Her beautiful eyes. He remembered…

Did he say those words to hurt her? To score a cheap point against her? To punish her for doing what she had had to do? To let her know the price, the helplessness of command?

Oh God, the helplessness…

."Too many." He looked away from her, across the bullpen. "Chloe, dispatch medical support to Tom's position."

"Tony, LAPD's in position around the Regan. There's no where for Fredericks to go."

"Control, this is Delta Five. Fredericks has a hostage."

"Can you see Nathan or Ashley?"

"Negative, Control."

"Control, this is Delta Four. We have hostiles in custody."

xxxXXXxxx

She couldn't believe that he had executed Cronje in cold blood.

But then, these were the type of people she was dealing with now.

"Everybody stay down. Stay out of my fucking way, and nobody else has to get hurt." He ran the pistol across the waitress' cheek in a grotesque parody of a caress. "Especially this pretty little thing."

The waitress couldn't even speak. Only whimper helplessly, and plead with her not to hurt her. Couldn't take her eyes from Cronje's corpse.

Fredericks ignored her, dragging her away from the body. Away from the blood starting to seep out onto the floor.

Ashley pulled out her own gun, and risked another look from cover. Trying to catch Nathan's eye as he moved.

She held his gaze as long as she dared. Trying to tell him her plan without words. She hoped he understood.

Fredericks was almost passed her. She had to move. Now.

Clutching her gun, she darted from cover.

Fredericks' eyes latched onto her, hungrily. Following her movements smoothly, the barrel of the gun aimed at her. She imagined she could still see the smoke belching from it.

His finger tightening on the trigger.

xxxXXXxxx

He couldn't believe it was over. Couldn't believe he had survived, especially after van der Melde had pointed a gun at the back of his head.

Tom watched as Delta Four moved across the battle site, dragging the survivors to their feet, handcuffing their prisoners, loading their prisoners into the almost gleaming support vans. He grinned grimly as he compared them to the bullet ridden wreckage around him.

He still crouched next to van der Melde's body, his hand sticky and thick with the other man's blood. A medical team moved across the site, treating what wounded they could.

All too often, they closed a body bag around a Delta Team member.

One of them approached Tom, holding a medical case in his hand. "Sir, what's his status?"

"Shot in stomach." Tom glanced at van der Melde. His sweats and shakes had gotten worse as the adrenalin had faded after the fight. "I think he's in shock."

"We'll deal with him now, sir." The medic signalled to one of his colleagues who hurried over to him, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves, discarding the old bloodstained pair.

Tom started to stand. Suddenly bone weary, all he wanted to do was go home, stand in the shower until he had washed the slime of the day off him and then sleep.

Tomorrow was a new day.

Van der Melde's hand shot out, catching his wrist. "Remember our deal, Baker."

Tom wrenched his hand free, rubbing the blood off his wrist. He had enough blood on his hands already.

"You promised me Baker. You promised me you'd help me disappear. You promised you'd…"

"That's for the Director to decide."

Tomorrow was a new day.

xxxXXXxxx

For an instant, she thought, feared that he was going to shoot.

For an instant, a second, she thought that she was going to die.

Fredericks tracked her with the gun, the hostage hanging limp in his grip. His finger tightening around the trigger. She tensed, almost welcoming the impact.

'What the hell is she doing?' Nathan scrambled to his feet, ripping a hole in the knee of his Regan Hotel uniform, the body of the hostage still between him and Fredericks.

Ashley darted across Fredericks' field of fire. He moved slightly, his gun still aimed at her.

Just for that instant, that second, Nathan had a clear shot.

Not allowing himself to think, he took the shot.

xxxXXXxxx

Two shots echoed around the Regan Hotel, nearly deafening her.

His grip on her tightened, pulling her so close that she feared he meant to kiss her.

Then he was gone.

She felt something damp against her cheek, the same cheek he had caressed with the hot pistol. Her hand came away sticky and crimson. She stared at it for a second. Then her tears started, as she remembered his touch, his gun against her.

Men dressed in dark SWAT clothing swept into Regan Hotel, weapons aimed and ready.

She felt arms around her. A blond haired woman, dressed in a Regan Hotel uniform, pulled her close. "Its okay, honey. I got you."

A member of Delta Five handed Ashley a shield and she slipped the fine chain over her head. She tightened her embrace on the waitress, and thought about tomorrow.

Tomorrow was a new day.

Nathan approached Fredericks body, kicking away the discarded pistol. He knelt next to him, checking for a pulse. He met Ashley's eyes over the waitress' shoulder and nodded.

He stood and spoke quietly into his mike.

"We got him, Michelle."

**The End of The Shadowlands**

And that's it folks.

I was going to write an epilogue and tie everything up in a nice neat little bow, but I think it's more like the show to have a more sudden ending. I do have another story in mind with this particular 'cast'

Oh and I finally figured out the formatting 

Thank you (a HUGE Thank you!) to everyone that read and reviewed, and to everybody that made suggestions. I hope you all enjoyed the story.

Thanks again,

Bluenose

PS I thought I'd give you the lyrics to the song that provided the title. It's written by Ryan Adams, and was debuted live in Belfast

The Shadowlands

God please bring the rain

Yeah and bring it soon

Let it food right through the house

Into Judys room

With a father on amphetamines

Her mother hides the pearls

Reach out into the darkness

And find my little girl

Cos shes angry like a sales man

That couldnt make a sale

Threw her wedding ring in the sewar

And damned them all to hell

Please lead her to the mountain

That you fashioned out of sand

While the roaches climb the walls

From the hotel where he calls

Most people never find a love

Most people never find a love

Sometimes you just cant be a man

Sometimes you just cant be a man

When you're living in the darkness

Of the shadowlands

The shadowlands

I thought it summed up some parts of Season Three perfectly.

Thanks again.


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